Inevitable
by Raven's Wing
Summary: Kristoff told himself again and again that what he felt for Anna wasn't love, but that could change. Magic wasn't done with any of them quite yet.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to the Frozen universe including, but not limited to, characters, names of places, lyrics, dialogue, or any other piece of product. Disney retains all the rights to this universe. I am making no money or receiving any kind of compensation, material or non-material, for this fiction. It's all for fun. Please don't sue me. I do claim the writing, the idea behind this particular narrative, and any peripheral characters or locations created to augment Disney's work.

**A/N:** Oh no. Frozen? a new story? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? WHY DOES DISNEY CONTINUE TO RUIN MY LIFE? sorry. i should have never gone to see Frozen. never ever. now all i can think about is kristoff and anna and anna and kristoff and… sorry. i just can't.

**o000o**

Kristoff wanted to break something, anything, everything. He had only lived in the palace for three days and he already chafed everywhere. He was used to being on the move. He was used to the sky, the earth and dirt on his hands; not walls and windows keeping everything calm, clean, and quiet. He was used to moving and working and fighting, not sitting and watching and waiting. He was used to being alone (because, when he was honest, Sven didn't really count as a human companion) but now there was Anna.

Anna was soft and sweet like spun sugar. She was fearless and wild like a falcon in flight. She was light and air and laughter. She was rock and flint and fire and he had never met anyone quite like her.

Kristoff wasn't the kind of guy that fell in love, not at first sight, not ever, but he could not deny the inexorable pull she had over him.

It wasn't love. It wasn't. He told himself so over and over again because you don't just go around falling in love with people. It just wasn't the thing to do, but Anna….

He liked her. Sure he did. No one could begrudge him that. Besides, he had stayed in worse places between gigs than in a castle. So he lived in a room that was too large and too small all at once and tried his very best to not spend more than one minute he didn't have to inside of those walls.

**o000o**

Sven didn't like their arrangement much either. He told Kristoff so every time Kristoff came to visit him in the royal stables and pasture (which was often). Kristoff smoothed Sven's muzzle and made promises that they'd get back out there soon. He just needed time to figure out their next move. Having a queen that could produce ice from her fingertips at any time probably wasn't great for business. Not having a sleigh didn't help matters any either. Then there was Anna….

Anna and with those taunting hips hidden beneath twirling skirts and those eyes that flashed so bright they blinded him. Anna and her careful braids that he wanted to ruin with reckless fingers and her sweet berry smile that he wanted to kiss and kiss until he was the only one she smiled for. Anna and the way she made his head swim and how she made him oscillate between the need to ravage her and the need to protect her. If he wasn't careful, she overwhelmed his every waking thought until there was nothing left but her.

He stroked the silky nose of his oldest friend and fed him the carrots he pilfered from the castle kitchen.

"Don't worry, Sven. I'll figure this all out. I promise."

Sven looked up at him from his carrot and shrugged because it didn't really matter what he thought.

**o000o**

Anna spent a lot of time with Elsa those first few days. He supposed it was to be expected. Sisters driven apart by a terrible secret that wasn't a secret anymore blah blah blah blah blah. That and Anna had never really had a house guest before, so… how was she supposed to know what to do with him?

He tried to not let it bother him that he was just hanging around waiting for her time like spare change, but the lack of her rubbed against his conscious each passing moment. He reminded himself that he liked being alone. That was why he worked alone, traveled alone, ate alone, slept alone… it was easier. There was no giant gap in your chest, no gnawing feeling in your gut, just peace and quiet.

He liked being alone. He sure did. So he focused on that.

He spent most of his time wandering through the castle avoiding servants. There was a lot of room to wander, and a lot of servants to avoid, so it turned into quite the game. Up halls and down halls, trying doors, looking out windows, exploring gardens, it was a maze that he had down by the second afternoon. By the third, the day that Anna finally gave him "the grand tour", he was already figuring out the quickest way to get from one side of the castle from the other without going in certain rooms. It was fun. Kinda.

It _was _fun, however, to listen to Anna explain the spaces he had already visited. Each person in every painting had a name, even if she had no idea what their real name was. Each room had a routine, a game she would play to pass the time.

_This is where I beat myself at chess!_

_ Here is where I practice dancing. I can see myself in that big mirror. _She gave a demonstration.

_This is the best room for drawing, but only on sunny days._

It went on and on. The suit of armor was named Toulouse, the stuffed pheasant was Reina, she broke her own breath holding record on that couch... And he knew this was the first time she had ever gotten to share any of this with anyone. The familiar ache of a lonely childhood crept through his chest.

He knew alone inside and out, but even at his lowest he had Sven, then the trolls, when he really needed someone. It was becoming clear that Anna had no one and hadn't had anyone in a long time. The way she talked was she was trying to fit fifteen years of human contact into fifteen minutes and he wished he could reassure her that he had no plans of leaving any time soon.

He took her hand in his. It was soft, impossibly small, with fingers so thin he would break them like twigs if he squeezed too hard, but her touch still made his pulse race.

Anna smiled up at him from under shy lashes and he couldn't help his own lips from turning up at the corners in return.

No. He didn't mind being alone. It was just that being alone with Anna was better.

**o000o**

He wasn't really into being blindfolded. Or being led places blindfolded. Or really anything that hinged on him implicitly trusting another human being for any period of time because it had never worked out great for him in the past, but when Anna snuck into his room early the morning of the seventh day, he couldn't say no. He didn't think she would let him.

She led him quickly down through the halls and out the doors. He felt the sun on his skin, the fresh air ran fingers through his hair, and he wasn't ready to admit that the reason why he hadn't ripped off his blindfold at this point was because he was actually having fun. That is what led him to being breathless and the closest thing to giddy he had ever felt in his life (lamppost incident aside) that he did not really care what came at the end of this jaunt.

That was until he saw what awaited him.

Anna bought him a sleigh.

No. Not just a sleigh - a masterpiece. It was like his dreams had exploded out of his brain and taken solid shape. No one had ever given him something even close to this great, and even if it was a repayment for the sleigh she had inadvertently crashed, he didn't care. It was like she had given him wings.

So he kissed her, the first real, solid evidence of his affection. The first time he could point to a moment and say he ever really meant a kiss. The first time it was something more than a desperate grab at being less than lonely. And he liked it. He liked it more than he cared to admit, but not enough to stop the roll of his eyes when she put the medal marking his new title of "Ice Master and Deliverer" around his neck.

**o000o**

That night, Elsa froze the dinner table.

It wasn't her fault, not entirely at least. Kristoff wasn't used to eating with so much fuss and formality. When one of the servants came to serve him his soup, he knocked the tray out of the servant's hands with a misplaced elbow. The sisters were talking, distracted, so the crash came as a surprise. Both startled at the noise, but when Elsa's hand hit the table, the entire surface, and all of its contents, froze to a solid sheet of ice.

No one said anything for a moment. It was just the three of them at the table, all looking at each other, all unsure what to do. The servant hurried to clean the mess off of the floor and scurried from the room.

"I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - uh - you know." Kristoff sputtered, unsure if he was apologizing for the spill or the ice or the awkwardness thereafter. Maybe it was for all of it.

"It's okay." Anna smiled at him across the table. "Elsa can just unfreeze it and everything will be just like it was before. Right, Elsa?"

They both looked at the queen where she sat at the head of the table. She was staring at her hands. Her narrow shoulders trembled.

"Elsa?" Anna reached out to touch her sister's arm.

Elsa flinched away.

"I think I will take my dinner in my room tonight." Elsa's words were measured.

"No! Elsa, please stay. Nothing happened. We are all fine." Anna stood with her sister. Kristoff followed suit.

"Yeah. My soup was way too hot anyway." Kristoff tried to make it better, but it fell on deaf ears.

"You two please stay and eat. I'll see you in the morning." And with that, Elsa defrosted the table and was gone.

Kristoff looked across the table at Anna as the grand door shut, looking for a cue for what to do, but she was already running after her sister. Then he was alone and had the distinct feeling that his situation wasn't going to change. So he sat and took a bite of his soup.

It was ice cold.

**o000o**

He wanted to go find Anna and make sure she was okay. He wanted to fold her into his arms and chase away her demons, but he didn't. He couldn't. It was all too confusing.

How much exactly was he allowed to do or say within his new title of Ice Master, and kind of Anna's boyfriend. Was he her boyfriend? Was that what this was? Or was she just so lonely and confused that she would take whatever attention she could get and he was just a case of the right place at the right time?

They were different. He knew that. He'd always known that, but a princess and an iceman? How could he ever think that was going to work? Anna had fallen for that scum bag Hans. It was clear that her choices in partners were impulsive and misguided at best. Why should he be an exception?

The more he thought about it, the more his head hurt.

He needed some space to think, to breathe, to be alone and figure out this mess of feelings that tangled tighter in his chest each time he saw her.

He went to the stables that night after dinner and made the necessary arrangements.

That night, in the dark of his room, he fell asleep wondering just exactly where Anna had freckles and where she didn't.

**o000o**

"Take me with you."

She showed up at his door before the first light of dawn crept over the horizon.

"What? Why are you – what are you – how did you...?" He hadn't told her he was going. He left a message with a valet of where he was going and when he would be back, but after last night's dramatic dinner he figured the sisters needed some space just as much as he did. Apparently he figured wrong.

"I saw the stable master bring out your sleigh last night and ready it for a journey. I want to go with you."

This was assertive Anna, the same Anna who found him in the hay of that crook Oaken's barn and roped him into the craziest adventure he could imagine, but he could see the waver in her confidence beneath the surface. It looked like she was in no shape to go on a two week trek into the mountains where miserable cold and life threatening danger was a way of life. Dark circles hung beneath clouded eyes and he could tell she had been crying. She looked like she would fall over in a strong wind and he wondered if she had slept at all.

That thing, that _need_ to shelter her swelled up inside of him like a wave and crashed against his resolve. How could he keep her safe if he left her behind? How could he keep her safe if she came with him? He couldn't either way, but at least if she stayed behind she'd have the palace guards to keep an eye on her. It was best to stick to the original plan.

"Not this time." He adjusted his pack on his shoulders. The neck of the lute she'd given him knocked the back of his head. "This isn't exactly a joy ride."

"I'm not asking." Her mouth set a firm line.

"Neither am I." He pulled his hat down over forehead.

She raised her chin, defiance blazing, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You do not get to tell me 'no'." There was a challenge there that made him balk, a pretense of authority that reminded him exactly why he stayed away from people in the first place.

"Right. Except in this case – I do." Why was she being so stubborn? "I'll see you around, Princess." He stepped past her with stiff legs and made it five whole paces before her voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Elsa won't open her door."

He didn't turn around. He knew if he did, he's done for. He stayed frozen in place and knew that if he really cared for her, he would keep walking. He'd save her from herself by not giving in, but the crack he heard in Anna's voice wouldn't let him go.

"She says she just needs some time to make sure she is safe to be around, but who knows how long that will be? She's stayed in there for _years_ before and I just can't –," her voice broke and Kristoff knew she was fighting back tears, because she didn't cry. No – she was too tough for that. "I _won't_ be alone like that again. I won't. I won't!"

He could not move, could not breathe, because he could feel every fractured edge of her feelings stabbing at his conscious. Inside him, two voices raged war. _Go! Leave her! It will be easier this way. She doesn't understand what we need. _Another (that sounded suspiciously like Sven) said just the opposite: _Love her. Take her. We need her. _His body strained under the conflict.

"Please." Her fight slipped into fatigue. Her honesty drained her munitions and all she could do now was ask. "Please let me come with you."

He dropped his chin to his chest. He knew what it was to be left behind all too well, but this… there was no winning here. He could not tell her yes, but she would not take no for an answer.

"It won't be easy." He tried to keep the growl out of his voice. In fact, it would be the opposite. It was backbreaking work and exhaustion that crept into your bones.

"I know."

_She knew_. The voice inside snorted. No – _he_ knew. It was all he knew. It was all he had needed to know, as opposed to living in this castle where he had no idea what to do ever.

"We travel light and fast. There isn't a lot of room in the sled for extra girly stuff."

"I don't need much."

"It's going to be cold and boring and miserable most of the time."

"I turned into an ice statue. I can deal with cold."

She had a point, but he would never admit it. She was tougher than he gave her credit for.

"I leave in ten minutes. If you are in the sleigh before I go – I suppose I can't very well kick out the princess." Not a yes, not a no, but who was he kidding? It was practically a gift wrapped invitation.

He was only two steps down the hall when she throttled him from behind. Her tiny arms encircled his broad waist and squeezed. It took everything in him to not respond to her touch beyond standing still. After all, he _was_ upset that she ignored his better judgment.

"Thank you." She sighed against his back.

Somewhere deep inside of him, two little voices also sighed but for two different reasons

He hoped against all hope that he wasn't making a huge mistake.

**o000o**

Sven gave a snort that said _she's coming!? _ Kristoff patted the reindeer's nose in understanding as he checked to make sure his friend was rigged onto the sleigh properly. By the time he was done with his inspection, Anna was seated on the passenger side. Her hands rested primly on her lap, and she had the twinkle of wanderlust in her eyes. The kid really needed to get out more.

He placed his pack in the back before climbing up beside Anna, and noticed her small pack resting on top of their food supplies. She didn't need much, indeed. Her pack was half the size of his. He bit back the urge to ask her if she had brought all the essentials and grabbed the reigns instead. It wasn't his idea to have her come on this excursion and if she was uncomfortable because she forgot to bring a blanket – it served her right.

"Last chance to turn back." Dawn was breaking and he liked how smooth her skin looked in the soft light. "You sure about this?"

"I'm sure." She said, sliding her fingers over his free hand.

His body sparked like it always did whenever their skin touched. For one brief moment, he thought that maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

**o000o**

Arendelle was four hours behind them and with every passing hoof beat, Kristoff felt simultaneous relief and anxiety. Relief because the familiarity of this routine was life affirming and energizing. Anxiety because there was ninety pounds of pure energy riding next to him and he still resented the overwhelming need he felt to take care of her.

If she was so tough and able – she would have to pull her own weight. If she was not going to let him take care of her by staying behind when he told her to – she would just have to keep herself safe. He didn't even want her here! At least part of him didn't. The selfish, scared, sniveling part of him – but a part nonetheless.

Let her get herself killed. That'd show her.

He spent the next several minutes convincing himself that he would absolutely not save her if she needed it. It just encouraged her to be reckless. If she hadn't gotten engaged to that bozo after two minutes her sister wouldn't have frozen the entire world and he never would have gotten into this mess in the first place. He'd never have talked to a snowman, or crashed his sleigh in a ravine, or outrun a giant snow monster by rappelling down a cliff, or felt just how warm and soft a woman could be in a kiss, or – oh hell. Who was he trying to kid? He'd spend the rest of his life saving Anna if he could, and it looked like she was going to do everything to make sure he had plenty of opportunities to do so.

**o000o**

They hit a bump and the wagon mount his sleigh was strapped to jolted to the side. He hooked an arm around Anna's waist to keep her from careening from her seat before he had a thought. They stayed pressed together like that much longer than was strictly necessary before Kristoff took back his arm with a brusque:

"Pay more attention, would ya? You're going to get yourself killed."

He didn't complain when she scooted close and rested her head on his shoulder.

**o000o**

"Do you want to play a guessing game?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"It can be a lot of fun. I'll show you. I'm going to describe something I see and then you have to guess what it is."

"Is it a tree?"

"Kristoff!"

"Well, is it?"

"You have to wait until I describe it."

"No I don't, because I am not playing."

"Fine. Maybe we should play it sometime when we aren't in a forest."

**o000o**

They make good time and were at the rest point an hour before sundown. It was a familiar place for Kristoff, a clearing he'd camped in more time than he could count, and it felt more like home than any four walls he'd ever lived in. They weren't high enough up in the mountains to hit snow, but Kristoff knew that a chill would settle on the world as soon as the sun went down. That is why he went about setting up camp in a hurry. He needed to get his tent up, a fire built, and the food hoisted up out of reach before it got dark.

Anna jumped out of the sleigh and walked to the fire ring that lived at the center of the clearing. The rocks were charred black and gray from previous fires.

"These little guys aren't more of your family, are they?" She nudged one with her toe.

"Trolls are not the same as rocks." He snapped.

"It was a joke. Calm down, grumpy." She came back over to where he was unloading the sleigh and grabbed her pack. "What can I do to help?"

"Stay out of the way." He'd never been much of the teacher type and didn't see why he should start now. A princess wasn't exactly someone who needed to know how to setup a camp.

"Fine." She sniffed. "I'll just go for a little walk so I don't disturb you." She gave a dramatic bow and he gave her a stern look over the crate of camping supplies he was unpacking.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." He said, but she was already on her way into the woods.

"Don't go too far! The wolves will be waking up soon."

He'd be damned if he went looking for her, but with every rustle of every branch he felt the need to go investigate. You know – to protect the camp. Sven watched all of this with a smirk.

**o000o**

Ten minutes later, Anna stumbled into the clearing with her arms piled so high with sticks and twigs that he could barely see her face. She dumped them in the fire ring, several twigs managed to hook into her long braids and on the front of her dress, and looked triumphantly at Kristoff. He looked at her from where he pounded a tent stake into the ground and could do nothing to stop the smile from cracking across his face.

**o000o**

"You take the tent. Sven and I will sleep out here by the fire." They'd finished their simple dinner of root vegetables, hard tack, and salted meat a few minutes before. "We have an early start tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. That way I can keep an eye on the fire."

"No. I mean – are you sure you don't want to sleep in the tent?"

He frowned. Hadn't he just told her that – twice?

"You get the tent, Anna."

"No. Ugh. I mean…" She looked at her feet. Was she blushing? Was he? "I mean – do you want to share? The tent I mean. It is big enough for two."

She looked up at him from beneath long lashes and he tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly too small. Was she asking… could she possibly be saying… did she really want to… what exactly was happening? His mind refused to believe the conclusion it jumped to. There was just no way. She was absolutely not inviting him into the tent for _that_, but that was all he could picture.

"It was just an idea. I mean – if you hate it we can just forget it. I just - I didn't want you to be mad at me for taking your tent. I'm not that big. If I scrunch on one side, you'd fit too. It would be tight – sure – it is small tent, but I think we could make it work. If you wanted to. "

She was doing that thing where she talked too fast because she was nervous, and his head spun to try and take it all in. It was difficult to find room to process anything outside of the idea of Anna soft and warm and vulnerable and _close_. She'd been close all day, but this kind of close was different. It was inescapable.

He was supposed to be mad at her for being here. He was supposed to be distant and to make excursions as his sidekick as unattractive as possible. Instead, his body responded to the idea of her being so accessible. His blood warmed. His mind clouded. She was still talking, but he wasn't listening. He was too busy scrambling for a way to explain to Anna why that wasn't a great idea, but the words wouldn't come.

That was why he stepped forward, took her face in his hands, and pressed his mouth to hers. She stiffened at first, sucking in air through her nose and backbone going rigid, but he held her against him. Her steel disappeared with the surprise. She sighed against him. He felt her hands spread across his chest and slide up his shoulders. Thin fingers wove into the hair at the nape of his neck. Shivers raced down his spine at their delicate touch.

His hands glided from her face to wrap around her back. He pulled her closer, _closer_, forcing her to tilt her head back and her mouth to open under his. He sucked her bottom lip between his and ran his tongue along its soft flesh. He felt her stuttered breath as much as he heard it. The fingers in his hair tightened, begging with her body, and fueling the fire stoked in his belly.

This was how he wanted to kiss her from the first moment she stormed into the barn where he and Sven were tucked in for the night. She'd been so odd, demanding and diminutive all at once. He'd wanted to kiss her like this just to get her to leave him alone. Now he wanted to kiss her like this because it made his heart ache to think it had ever not known her. He wanted to kiss her until she was limp and breathless in his arms, until she couldn't think or fight or resist, until he could understand the splinter she'd become in his mind.

She whimpered against his mouth and the sound ran through him like a lightning bolt. Forget being alone. Forget needing space. Forget any time that ever existed before Anna and her strawberry tongue. This was what he wanted, no matter how much he tried to talk himself out of it. This, this, and all of this – but there were Rules about Things Like This and Matters of Propriety, which is why he tore his mouth off of hers.

Even in the dim light, he could tell she was flushed. Her lips were marked so thoroughly by his kiss it was difficult not to dive right back in. And the way she looked at him with those wide eyes was exactly why he took her by the shoulders and pressed her back away from him.

"You take the tent. Alone." He said once he caught his breath. "You take the tent." All of the places where she had been pressed up against him were now so cold in the night air that he regretted each syllable.

He dropped his hands off of her shoulders and took another step back. She pressed two lithe fingers to her lips as if she could keep his kiss there a little longer, and it took everything within him not to help her out with that.

"Goodnight, Anna." He didn't recognize his voice.

At that, she gave him a strange, sated smile from behind her fingers. Her eyelashes fluttered and why was he sending her to the tent alone again?

"Goodnight, Kristoff." She turned and disappeared into the tent.

All he could do was watch her go.

**o000o**

**A/N**: this is going places. i cannot apologize for that.

Wanna know a mix of stupid thoughts and writing updates? That is what my twitter is for: **ravenswrite**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to the Frozen universe including, but not limited to, characters, names of places, lyrics, dialogue, or any other piece of product. Disney retains all the rights to this universe. I am making no money or receiving any kind of compensation, material or non-material, for this fiction. It's all for fun. Please don't sue me. I do claim the writing, the idea behind this particular narrative, and any peripheral characters or locations created to augment Disney's work.

**o000o**

Kristoff didn't sleep. He couldn't, and it wasn't for the normal reasons. It wasn't too cold. Sven wasn't snoring. There were no creatures in the woods around them making too much noise. If anything, it was too quiet. He couldn't stop his mind from racing.

What was he doing kissing the princess? Who did he think he was? He was no prince. He was an iceman, and that wasn't going to change just because of a couple of great kisses.

If living in the palace for a week taught him anything, it was just how out of place he was in her world. He was never more alive than when he was plowing his way through the snow or carving ice out of a lake. He loved waking up with aching muscles and still pushing through another long day of work. He couldn't give that up. He wouldn't. He was built and bred for it. Living in a palace, he was not.

Anna deserved someone who didn't knock trays at the dinner table and knew three languages. She deserved someone who understood the pressures of royal life and the manners and customs of nobility. She deserved someone who could live inside of a glorified box and not feel suffocated. She deserved someone different, someone better, someone not _him, _and that thought made his stomach churn.

The idea of not being with her gave him physical pain as sharp and real as any injury he'd ever felt. It made him dizzy. It was like she was lodged in his chest, right next to his heart, and every moment they were together she burrowed deeper into his system. On the other hand, the idea of being stuck in the palace for the rest of his life, tied down with duties and ceremonies, made him panic. He couldn't imagine a life outside of being an iceman, but he couldn't be without Anna.

What in the hell was he supposed to do?

_She'll leave you, you know. She'll find someone better suited or Elsa will for her and you will be out. _One half of him hissed.

_She wants you. She needs you. Don't give that up. Don't throw that away. You need her, too. _The Sven half answered.

Oh gods, he was arguing with himself.

She was literally driving him crazy.

He lay back against the furry stomach of his best friend, rising and falling with Sven's deep breaths, and stared at the tent until his eyes wouldn't stay open any longer. By the time he drifted off into a fitful sleep, the fire was nothing but embers.

**o000o**

He kicked the tent to wake her. He didn't trust himself to look inside. What if she were so adorable while she slept that he couldn't bear to wake her? What if he was so transfixed by her that he crawled into the tent and just held her? Then they'd never get to tonight stopping point before sunset and that just wouldn't do. When nothing happened, he kicked it again. Again. Once more – with feeling.

"Anna. You need to get up. It is time to go."

She groaned inside the canvas walls.

"It's almost sunrise."

The rest of the camp was packed back into his sleigh and all that was left was his tent. It was time to remedy that. He bent over and yanked one of the corner pegs out of the ground, then the middle peg on the same side. When he pulled the final corner peg out from the side, the tent angled sharply to the side.

"You've got about ten seconds before this tent collapses on you."

"Hold on. I'm up. I'm up." Her voice was froggy.

She emerged with a rustle of fabric and a groan. Her hair was a tangled nest around her face and the skin on her cheek was creased with marks from his bedroll. The dress from yesterday was crumpled. She looked so young as she pushed her hair back and blinked sleep filled eyes at him. That damn protective instinct surged into overdrive at the sight of her. Why did she have to look like a helpless baby owl when she woke up? Why couldn't she look like something more disgusting – like a slug?

"The sky isn't even awake. Why are we?" She hugged her arms around her middle with a shiver that he ignored.

"The sun will be up soon. We need to get moving if we are going to make it to the next rest point by dusk." He flattened the tent and pulled out the polls. "You're not much of a morning person, are you?"

"I love mornings. I just don't count any time before the sun rises as 'morning'. But this is good. Sunrises are beautiful. I've seen like ten and each one was great." She yawned and stretched. "Can I help you?"

She sure went from half asleep to fully awake in a hurry. There was no in between with her. All in or all out – and from the way she looked at him he knew she was all in where he was concerned. That made his palms sweat.

"I've got this." He rolled the tent back into a nice parcel. "Why don't you go check on Sven and get in the sled. I'll be over in a minute." He needed a moment to regroup without her looking so bafflingly adorable a few feet away.

"Okay. Can do!" He watched her retreat for a few seconds before tearing his attention back to striking the tent.

After he was done, he took three deep breaths and counted to ten, but he knew there was nothing he could do to prepare himself for Anna.

**o000o**

She brushed her hair for half an hour and counted each stroke.

"One hundred fifty, one hundred fifty one, one hundred fifty two…."

He could not remember the last time he brushed his hair.

"Three hundred eleven, three hundred twelve, three hundred thirteen…"

She sang the numbers now. It could have been obnoxious, but he liked the way her voice sounded.

"Four hundred ninety eight, four hundred ninety nine, five hundred!"

She plopped the brush on her lap and ran her fingers through her locks.

"Sometimes I wish I could wear my hair short like a boy." She twisted the ends of her hair between her fingers. "I almost did it once when I was thirteen, but then I didn't because I didn't want to have to explain it to my mother. She was very particular."

"I like your hair the way it is." To be honest, he would like her if she was bald, but that didn't mean he wanted her to be, or that she needed to know that.

"You do?" Her eyes lit up.

"Yeah. It suits you." The way she reacted made him think she had never gotten a compliment before. Maybe she hadn't.

"I like your hair, too."

"Well – thanks." Come to think of it – he hasn't really gotten that many compliments either.

"It's really – blonde."

"Always has been."

"Mine too. Well not blonde like yours, blonde like mine. My hair looks like my dad's did. Well, kind of anyway. Do you look like your dad?" She busily plated her hair into two long braids while she talked, and missed the look of uncertainty that swept over his face.

"Uh…" He scratched the back of his neck with one hand. "I don't really remember my dad."

"Why not?"

"Because – uh - I never met him."

A beat.

"You mean like never never?"

"No. No, I guess not."

"You guess not or you know not?"

"Know not."

"Oh."

Another beat and Kristoff should have felt more defensive. He always felt defensive when it came to his lineage. Judgment and heretical pity always followed from upper crusts like Anna when they found out that he was somehow even less than a peasant, but with Anna it was different. The aloof unavailability he expected was replaced sincere concern. It was like his problems became her problems just by him saying a few words. He'd never felt that before from a human, ever, and his shell softened.

"Why?" She asked.

He could tell her the ugly truth. He could tell her that he was the bastard child of a man he'd never know issued from a woman who never cared to know him and who left him for dead on the steps of a church in the middle of winter. He could tell her the hard facts of a cruel life, of hunger, cold, and uncertainty – but he didn't want to. He didn't want her pity.

Maybe he'd just keep it simple.

"I'm an orphan." He was surprised how easily that came out and he tried to remember the last time he'd said those words out loud. He couldn't. Maybe he hadn't. "At least until the trolls took me and Sven in."

"So you never knew either of your real parents?" Her eyes are wider than he'd ever seen them.

"Nope."

"_Ever_?"

"Never."

"Wow." She looks at the hairbrush in her lap. "This was my mama's." She lifts the brush for his inspection. "I guess I am an orphan too, except different."

"Your parents _wanted_ you. Mine – not so much." He wasn't bitter, just honest. "That's the difference."

She put the brush down again and turned towards him. She grabbed his forearm in her hand. Her fingers barely reached around the top, but its presence begged him to look at her. He obliged. She looked into his eyes with a conviction so deep that he felt her sincerity all the way down to his toes.

"If you were my baby," Her voice was a solemn vow. "I'd never give you up for anything in the whole entire world."

Her words didn't change the past. They didn't fix the hunger or fear or loneliness that plagued his childhood. They didn't erase the slurs or the exclusion he'd experienced due to no fault of his own. They didn't even really make a whole lot of sense. However, in that moment, somewhere deep inside of him, a wound he'd carried alone for far too long hurt just a little less.

**o000o**

"Do you know the names of all of these mountains?"

"Yes."

"Prove it."

He did.

**o000o**

Anna fell asleep with her head on his shoulder after lunch.

He pulled back on the reins, slowing Sven to an easy walk, and did his best to avoid the larger potholes. The way Sven pulled at his restraints let Kristoff know he wasn't thrilled about the new pace. Normally Kristoff wouldn't be either. They liked to go quickly, but for Anna he would go slowly. He would go as slow as she needed.

**o000o**

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four." He shifted on his hard wooden seat.

"That seems right. I thought you might be older, maybe because you are so tall, but twenty-four sounds right because you are very grown up."

"Okay. Thanks?"

"No. It is a good thing! I like that you are mature – and tall, you know, because I am too. Mature that is – not tall. Because I am not tall. Anyway, I think it makes us a nice fit."

A nice fit, the twenty-four year old iceman and the... wait a second.

How old was Anna?

He had no idea.

It hadn't mattered when they met, or when he was saving her life, or when he was living in the castle, or the twenty billion times he had fantasized about her. In fact it hadn't really mattered until right now, but now it mattered quite a lot.

He wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

"How - uh - mature are you?"

"Eighteen." She sat up stick straight. "Well, not actually, not yet, but I almost am. Kinda. My birthday is in eight months."

You could have knocked Kristoff over with a feather.

Anna was seventeen years old.

No. She was barely seventeen, which meant that a few short months ago she was only sixteen years old. She was practically a child! Granted when he was sixteen, he was saving to buy his first sled, was well into his ice harvester career, and living independently. But his version of sixteen and her version of sixteen were starkly different. She'd barely seen a human being or been outside of the castle walls. She was so young, so trusting, and he felt rumbly inside.

"Seventeen." He said it out loud, trying to wrap his mind around it. "Wow. Seven- that is just really something, isn't it? I remember seventeen. Seventeen." He whistled low under his breath.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"Because you keep saying my age. It is freaking me out." She scrunched her freckled nose and scowled.

"Sorry. I just didn't realize you were that - seventeen." He couldn't to say 'young'.

"How old did you think I was?"

"I don't know. Older?" Not seventeen.

"Is my age a problem or something?"

"No!" Yes. Maybe. Probably. "It just wasn't what I was expecting. That's all."

Anna was nothing like he had ever expected ever. So why should her age be anything less than surprising?

"That makes you seven years older than I am. Seven is a nice number, don't you think?"

No. He didn't. Numbers weren't nice. They were cruel and they made him feel like he was taking advantage of her even more so than he did before. Or she was taking advantage of him. Or something.

Seventeen.

Damn it all to hell.

He needed to change the subject before his brain exploded, so he lunged for the first thing that popped into his head.

"Hey – how about that guessing game?"

**o000o**

He unpacked the camp and she got kindling for the fire just like the night before. It could have been domestic except for the fact that he was surer than ever that bringing her was a big mistake.

He knew that seven years (actually closer to eight) was not an impossible gap, it was just that she was a young seventeen and he was an old twenty-four. Her inability to sense his uncertainty at the subject of their age difference showed that. She was too sheltered, too young to understand his hesitation. She was just a not-quite-an-adult hungry to experience all the world had to offer and that included Kristoff.

No wonder she agreed to marry perfect strangers.

Why oh why had he opened his dumb mouth and asked how old she was?

She hummed to herself as she flitted around their campsite, but he remained stoic. He was so deep in thought that it startled him when she plopped down next to him on the log by the fire.

"I brought some books." She held a volume in each hand.

Her skirts brushed his thigh. He froze between the need to move and the want to stay.

"Books?" What was she talking about?

"Yeah. Just a few of my favorites from the library. I thought maybe you might want to read one for fun." She handed him one of the books and he took it dumbly.

"This is… nice." He opened to the middle and thumbed through the pages before snapping the cover shut. "But I think I'm good. I've got to get dinner ready." He stood and handed her back the book.

"Oh. Okay. Then I'll just read out loud to you then."

"Yeah. Sure." He couldn't get in much else because she'd already jumped into her reading.

She read poetry. He half listened. He'd never had much use for poetry, but if it kept her occupied that was fine by him. The cadence of her voice rose and fell along the phrases in hypnotic rhythm as he pulled together their simple meal. While a good deal of the vocabulary was over his head, he had to admit that the tone of her voice took was soothing. Just the idea of her being close was soothing, like she eased an ache he hadn't known he had.

That did not make his dilemma any simpler.

Their fare was finished before she was so he sat opposite her and watched her through the flames. The light from the fire made her braids flash red. It cast deep shadows over her soft face that made her look angular, older, and he appreciated that. She made the reading look effortless as she breezed through stanza after stanza. He stared at her mouth and watched how those soft lips formed word after word. He watched her tongue slip between her teeth and curl around the sounds of each letter. He remembered just how those lips and that tongue felt against his.

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed when she stopped and looked up at him.

"Should I keep going?" Her eyes glinted bright in the fire.

Yes, because he wasn't done reliving every moment where she had been pressed up against him. No, because he really needed to think of any and everything except what she tasted like.

"Dinner is ready." Neither because he didn't like either of those options.

He stood and went over to hand her the tin containing her meal before retreating back to his side of the fire. He ignored her flash of disappointment at his distance.

"You're really good at that." He started conversation before she could point out his remoteness. "The reading thing, that is. It was nice."

Much to Kristoff's chagrin, instead of addressing his aloofness, Anna moved over to sit right next to him without missing a beat.

"Thanks. I used to read out loud almost every day to Elsa through the door since, you know, she wouldn't talk to me. That book is one of my favorites."

"That would do it then." He looked at his plate, the fire, the darkness beyond – anything but her face.

"Yeah. I always hoped Elsa liked it too. I still haven't asked her yet. I will have to do that when we get back to Arendelle. She'll be out of her room by then, don't you think? Of course she will be. She will have to be. She is queen after all!" Anna didn't breathe. "What do you think?"

"About the book?" Kristoff noticed how she kept edging closer to him on their log seat. Each little scoot made his heart skip a beat.

"No. About Elsa." Anna chewed her bottom lip. "Do you think she'll be out of her room by the time we get back?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't she be?" Potentially lethal ice magic leapt to mind, but that wasn't what she needed to hear right now.

"Of course. Yeah. Right. You are so right." She nibbled on the edge of a crackery biscuit like a mouse.

They fell into silence then. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It just was. Kristoff was thankful for it. It made it marginally easier to forget that she was a breath away from him all willing, eager, and so very young.

**o000o**

He needed distance.

That was the only thing he had decided in all of his agonizing over Anna. He just needed space to process everything. That was why he had decided to go on this trip in the first place, but then she tagged along and now he was stuck with her. He couldn't very well leave the princess in the middle of the woods, could he? So that meant he would have to create some sort of distance while she was constantly in his personal space.

No kissing. No grabbing her hand. No arm around her shoulder. No touching her in any capacity until he figured out exactly what course of action needed to be taken.

That was just how it had to be.

Dinner was over and he was going to say goodnight to her without getting caught up in everything like he did the night before. He couldn't. He owed it to both of them to be strong enough to say 'no' for now.

She looked at him, a few feet away, with an expectant face.

"Everything is cleaned up here. You can go to bed now." He walked over to where Sven lay by the fire and settled down against his friend.

Anna's expression flickered.

"I get the tent?" She tested the water.

"Yes." The water was cold.

"Alone?"

The question shot straight to his groin.

He shoved his floppy hat over his eyes to keep from looking at her. He knew he was finished if he did.

"Alone." Tension you could cut with a knife.

He wanted to look so badly. He wanted to see how his reticence stunned her. He wanted to make sure this was all worth it, because it sure didn't feel worth it.

"Okay then – um – goodnight?" She gave him one last chance to change his mind.

He wouldn't.

He couldn't.

He was doing this all to keep her safe, wasn't he?

"Goodnight." He didn't move. He didn't dare.

_She's seventeen. She's seventeen. She's seventeen. She's seventeen… _he thought into the blackness as he listened to her pad over to the tent and climb inside.

The more he thought it though, the less sure he was that it really mattered.

******o000o**

**A/N**: First, thanks to all of the reviewers. I appreciate you taking the time to leave your thoughts more than you know.

Second, I put Kristoff a little older in this fiction than Disney had him for two reasons. Reason one was from the research I did about Ice Harvesters, there was no way he could have been six or seven as they depicted him in the movie and been out learning the ice trade. Apprenticeships in that didn't start until boys were closer to nine or ten because they simply lacked the physical strength and endurance to be anything but dangerous. Reason two was to add a little drama with Anna being significantly younger than he was without it being creepy.

So don't get your panties in a bunch. This is fanfiction. I really shouldn't spend so much time thinking about avoiding anachronisms. Disney sure doesn't.

I posted a heads up about this chapter going live on my fanfiction twitter. If you want to know when updates are coming before they are here, go ahead and follow me: **ravenswrite**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to the Frozen universe including, but not limited to, characters, names of places, lyrics, dialogue, or any other piece of product. Disney retains all the rights to this universe. I am making no money or receiving any kind of compensation, material or non-material, for this fiction. It's all for fun. Please don't sue me. I do claim the writing, the idea behind this particular narrative, and any peripheral characters or locations created to augment Disney's work.

**o000o**

Kristoff dreamed he was in Elsa's ice palace. He stood in the cavernous entity in awe, the ice around him as fabulous as it was flawless. Shadows of his reflection gleamed on every surface. What captured his attention even more was the girl standing in the middle of the room, back to him but he'd know her anywhere.

"Anna." His voice echoed.

She turned. Her face lit in a wide smile at seeing him and she ran to him. They crashed into each other before he had a chance to stop her. Her arms entangled his neck. His wrapped his around her waist to brace himself as much as anything.

"Kristoff…" She murmured into his shirt as her hands slid down to rest on his chest.

"Anna I…" he started, knowing even in this dream that he needed to push her away but hating that idea.

He looked down at the girl in his arms, but instead of a young woman, he held a tiny baby with a shock of rust colored hair wrapped in dark green swaddling.

His mouth fell open. He tried to form words, but nothing would come. The surprise of it rendered him speechless, thoughtless, motionless. Before he could move or act, the child screamed.

The sound was unearthly. The ice walls rattled. The icicle chandelier jittered anxiously above them. He could feel his brain jiggling around behind his eyes like it was trying to shake loose. He squeezed his eyes shut against the mounting pain ripping through his head. He tried to cover his ears without dropping the howling infant Anna, but it was impossible. There was no way that he could save himself and keep her from harm.

Then, in one triumphant burst, infant Anna screamed so violently that Kristoff felt it like a sonic boom. The force of her cry tore her from his arms and he was helpless to stop it as the sound threw him twenty feet back. He crashed against the wall of ice and crumpled to the ground. His eyes glued to the infant as she tumbled to the ground. He tried to stand, to run, to reach her before she smashed onto the unforgiving floor, but he was too far away.

Just as she was about the meet the ground, the ice grew up to catch her. It surged up and formed a cradle for the infant to rest in, delicately holding her and keeping her from harm. Perhaps even more miraculous was that the instant the ice received Anna, she stopped crying. Kristoff stopped dead in his tracks, staring, unaware that they weren't alone until he heard another's voice.

"You cannot keep her safe." It was Elsa.

The living embodiment of ice stood over the frigid bassinette. She was just as Kristoff remembered only more imposing. Frozen energy crackled around her, sparking off of her fingertips, flashing in her eyes, but he didn't feel afraid for himself. He was afraid for Anna.

"I can. I will." He stepped forward and Elsa raised a hand toward him.

"Leave now."

"Not without Anna." He kept going forward, eyes on the prize, so he felt it before he saw it.

His feet stopped moving, or rather he couldn't move them anymore even though his legs strained to push forward. He looked down. His feet were encased in solid ice.

"You cannot keep her safe." Elsa repeated and the ice around his feet grew up his calves, his knees, his thighs.

"I can! I will!" Panic ran through Kristoff's system as the ice crept up his body despite his struggles.

"Too late." Then with a flick of her wrist, a white bolt shot from Elsa's fingertips and struck his chest.

Cold, real and as deep as anything he'd ever felt, surged through his blood. He couldn't breathe. His lungs froze in burning pain. He looked at his hands as the icy coffin swept to cover the last remaining parts of him. They were already blue. He'd always figured he'd die in some ice related way, but to be swallowed by ice, turned into ice… he never expected that.

The last thing he saw before the ice consumed him was Elsa lifting baby Anna in her arms and smashing her against the ground.

**o000o**

He woke with a start, chest heaving, pulse racing, and looked over to where the tent lay in the dark. It took all of his strength to not go check inside. He leaned back against Sven and squeezed his eyes shut.

"It was only a dream." He breathed the words into the stillness. "It was only a dream." He whispered again.

_It was only a dream._

So why could he still hear a baby crying?

**o000o**

He kicked her tent again to wake her. This time, however, she crawled out before he started striking the tent around her. He did his best not to look at her. That was partially because he didn't want to see her enshrouded by sleepy adorableness and partially because he was afraid this was another dream and she would melt into a hysterical infant again. This time he didn't have to resort to threats of dismantling her designated bedroom before she crawled out in a messy heap.

He kept his eyes trained on the tent.

"Morning." She yawned. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a baby." He said without a hint of a smile.

**o000o**

He wasn't as prepared this morning when he woke Anna as he was yesterday. There were still a few things to do here or there around the camp before they could leave, and Anna fluttered about with irritating energy.

"Let me help you." She reached to take the bundled tent from his arms.

"No. I've got it." He avoided the disappointed expression he knew she wore.

"Well how about the perimeter lanterns? I'll get those!"

"No. Leave them. I'll get them in a minute."

"Then what _can_ I do?"

He loaded the tent into the sleigh and nodded his head towards his reindeer.

"Check on Sven. See if he is done eating his breakfast. Then get in the sleigh and wait."

"Great. I'm on it." She turned and headed over to where Sven munched from a feedbag. Halfway to her destination, she spun on a heel and looked back. "Hey Kristoff?"

"Yeah?" He paused and looked at her. Even in the dim pre-dawn light he could see the spark of excitement on her face.

"Do you think you could teach me how to drive?"

**o000o**

Sven was so used to pulling a sled and this path was one he'd walked a hundred times before that Anna wasn't so much steering as he was just on autopilot. Every once in a while she would pull back too hard or too sharply to the side and he would turn his head and glare back at the humans behind him. He'd like to put a metal bar attached to leather straps in _their_ mouths and see how they liked being jerked around. Whenever he looked back though, Kristoff was too busy with his arm around Anna shoulders and his hands over hers on the reigns to pay much attention to his furry best friend.

Sven could only be so irritated, though, because it had been a long time since he'd seen Kristoff try so hard to not be happy.

**o000o**

He should have told her no.

He should have told her _hell no _because she was still seventeen and he was supposed to put distance between them until he figured out how he felt about all this. Either way, here he was with his arm around her shoulders, his rough hands wrapped over her soft ones on the reins, and his confused heart beating so hard he thought it may burst. Having her in this proximity did nothing to help with his muddled feelings, but it was just so easy with her. One thing led to the next and before he knew it, they were wrapped into each other.

Anna smelled nice.

He'd noticed that fact before, but when she was tucked up against him like this, it was overwhelming. Her scent was earthy and bright, ground and sky, and it went straight to his head. It made it difficult to focus on the task at hand. It made it impossible to remember that this was something he decided could not happen. He found himself closing his eyes and just breathing her in.

It was not fair for her to smell this tempting, this womanly. She was cheating. How was he supposed to fight this aching need for her growing inside of him when she smelled like that?

"Why are your eyes closed?"

Her voice startled him and he accidentally pulled on Sven's reins too hard. The reindeer cast him a dirty look that he didn't catch because he was too busy looking down at Anna's upturned face. She watched him with a playful wink in her eye, like she had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar, but also like that wasn't a bad thing. But it was. It was a very bad thing.

"Uh – I was just – my eyes were closed – I close my eyes – you are – it helps me get a feel for the road." He struggled to come up with an excuse, but her face is so close it is difficult.

"Uh huh. Sure. So it has nothing to do with waking up before the sun?" Her lips quirked into a smirk. She thought she was so smart.

_If only_. The thought flashed through his mind. If only it was as simple as him being tired, but he was learning that nothing that had to do with this girl or his feelings for her was simple.

"No. That's not it."

Why did his voice get so low and quiet? It should have had an edge, a bite, to it to prove his point. He wasn't tired. Well, he was, but his eyes being closed was _her_ fault. So why was his voice gentle? Why could he not stop staring at her mouth? Because she was so close, so, so close. Because she was under his skin, in his blood and bones. Because her eyes fluttered closed at the same time as her lips parted and he felt the warmth of her breath on his cheek. Because all he had to do was tilt his head a bit to the left, lean in, and…

The wagon mount hits a hole in the path and they smack foreheads together with a crack. They both pulled back with a hiss and Anna yanked her hands out from under his on the reins.

"Are you all right?" Anna asked. Her small hand went up to brush his thick blonde hair off of his forehead and examine the damage.

"I'm fine. Thick skull, remember?" He flinched away from her maternal touch because the truth was it hurt like the dickens and he didn't want her to touch it. He didn't want her touching him ever. Everything was too confusing right now. "Are you okay?"

She retracted her hand from his head and delicately pressed at a spot above her right eyebrow with a wince.

"I'll be fine." Her smile pulled more like a grimace and he felt a pang of guilt.

_You cannot keep her safe. _Dream Elsa's voice rang through his head. He wanted to disagree, but he couldn't.

"Maybe I should drive for a while." He pulled his arm from around her shoulder and up over her head. "You know, just till you recover." He slid away from her, just an inch or two, just enough space that he wasn't pressed right up against her.

She scowled at him.

"I'm fine." She still rubbed the place where their heads collided. "Maybe _you_ shouldn't drive with your eyes closed."

Kristoff bit his tongue because even though she was right, he would never admit it. Self-defensive walls flew up around him at her accusation. He didn't like it when people pointed out his mistakes, especially people named Anna. Especially when those mistakes would have never happened if she just listened to him in the first place and stayed behind.

"I had everything under control."

"You mean until you tried to kiss me in a moving wagon sled thing." She smirked and crossed her arms over her chest.

His ears grew hot with anger and embarrassment. She spoke the words like she'd caught him sinning, like she knew his secret self-covenant not to touch her, and guilt made his lung burn.

"I was not trying to kiss you!" Like denying the truth made it disappear, like lying was his saving grace.

"You weren't?" She blinked.

"No. I wasn't." Pressure like a vice around his chest.

"Well…" She swallowed. "Why not?"

"Why not what?"

"Why weren't you trying to kiss me? Don't you want to kiss me?"

She looked up at him. Where she could have been accusatory, she wasn't. She was so heartbreakingly vulnerable that it made his breath catch. She looked at him like he had her heart in his hands. He didn't like that. The idea of being the sole custodian of this girl's happiness was overwhelming. There was a reason why he kept to himself. He wasn't good at this kind of stuff. It was too big. It was too much. She was too young. His palms went clammy and sweat broke out of the back of his neck.

Distance. Now. For both their sakes'.

"No." He screwed his mouth into a firm line and sat up straight. "I don't."

She looked like he had slapped her. Pained surprise washed over her face. She blinked rapidly to keep back the sheen of tears that jumped to her eyes. She turned to look towards the road ahead and he pretended to do the same, but watched her out of the corner of his eye. A tear leaked onto her cheek and she batted away with a sniff. So tough, so fragile, and he steeled himself against the guilt that tear made him feel.

"Oh. Okay." Was all she said and wrapped her arms around her middle.

And for the first time since he'd met her, he wished she would say more.

**o000o**

"It's getting cold."

"It just gets colder from here."

**o000o**

They reached the snowline an hour later. They'd made the preparation to leave summer already and put on their winter covers when they stopped for tense lunch, but this made the transition all the more real. The ground glistened with a fine sheen of glittering frost that soon gave way to the barest dusting of flakes and grew from there. Anna felt like they were traveling some magic trail that led them to a new world.

"Is it always like this?" She asked in awe.

"Like what?"

"Like you're skipping seasons? Like you have the power to change the time of year just by thinking it?"

"You mean like your sister?"

"Yeah." The excitement felt out of her voice. "Like my sister."

She didn't say anything after that for a long time and neither did he, but for very different reasons.

**o000o**

Anna had been reading to herself for almost an hour. Then without warning she snapped her book shut.

"How many people have you kissed? Other than me – I mean."

"Uh…"

"More than two?"

"Yeah."

"More than five?"

"Yes."

"More than ten?"

"Where are you going with this, exactly?"

"I just wanted to know how much work I have to do to catch up."

He almost stopped the sleigh.

"You want to know what?"

"You know – how far behind I am. I mean I figured I was a little behind with the whole being alone in a closed off castle for most of my life, but I just wanted to know _how_ behind I am."

He had a white knuckled grip on those reins.

"So you are just going to go around kissing whoever until you are all caught up to whatever you think the standard is?"

"Maybe. Do you have a problem with that?"

She was challenging him, fighting back against the cruelty he'd shown earlier, and he knew it. She was dangling herself as bait in front of him. He wouldn't bite. He wouldn't give in that easily. Even if his heart was pounding so hard at the thought of her kissing someone else that he could hear it thrumming in his ears, he would never. Let her go kiss whatever toad she could find crazy enough to put up with her. They were doing him a huge favor because he _could not_ kiss her.

Hell, he couldn't even look at her.

His eyes always found that sweet spot on the slender column of her neck that he's wanted to taste since the first time they met. They found the curve of her bottom lip and how her soft pink tongue darted out anxiously if he stared too long. They knew the impossible diameter of her waist and the fragile length of her collarbone so well he could write books about them. His eyes knew the way her bodice swelled out to cover round breasts that he dreamt of squeezing.

He couldn't look at her. He couldn't kiss her. He couldn't keep her safe.

All he could do was train his eyes on the path ahead like his life depended on it.

He forced a tight smile. "Nope. No problem at all."

"Good."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

A pause.

"So… more than ten?"

**o000o**

She practiced bird calls for almost an hour and it took all of his very limited self-control to not push her out of the sleigh. How could she insist on making such happy chirping noises and whistles when he was in such a bad mood? This had to be part of her punishment for him trying to keep her safe. Childish really, Kristoff thought, but then again she was seventeen and _why _did _every _thought he had go back to _that?_

He clucked at Sven with his tongue, and his friend picked up the pace.

"How much longer?" Her voice grated on his raw nerves.

"A couple miles. We'll be there in the hour."

"Oh." She was quiet for a moment, but then a bird called and she answered.

Kristoff clenched his jaw until he felt like his teeth might crack.

**o000o**

It was a small inn tucked next to the path. Guessing by the tracks and the amount of light inside, Kristoff and Anna would not be the only guests there that night. It was a rough place with rough company, mostly icemen and loggers, but Kristoff knew it well. While it was far from royal standards, it was the best place within miles for a decent bed and a hot meal before braving Lake Limingen. It was also the only place he could leave his wagon mount until he came back down the mountain. It would have to do.

He got out of the sled and tied Sven to the hitching post.

"Stay here. I'm just going to make sure we are all set in here before we put Sven up in the stable."

"I'm coming with you."

He was going to tell her to wait in the rig, but she already jumped down from her seat into the powder on the ground. There was no reasoning with her and didn't have the energy to argue with her anymore.

The old wooden building's entry was a bar filled with smoke and laughter. He recognized several faces in the haze of benches, tables, and ale. It was a familiar scene for Kristoff, not so much for Anna.

"Is that you, Kristoff?" An older woman dressed predominately in fur came out of a small crowd.

"Hilde," Kristoff greeted her with a nod and a smile. "Got room for me and my rig tonight? Headed up to Limingen tomorrow."

The woman, Hilde, could have been Kristoff's mother. She was tall and broad with a long graying blonde braid trailing the length of her back and soft brown eyes that hardened when she saw Anna behind him.

"Who's she?" Hilde pointed and Kristoff opened so that Hilde could see Anna directly

"Oh. Her? Uh…" Kristoff didn't know how to introduce her. Was it Anna? Or Princess? Or Princess Anna of Arendelle? Or High Royal Pain In His Ass?

"I'm Princess Anna from Arendelle. Kristoff is our new Ice Master and I am accompanying him to learn more about the trade." Anna was surprisingly formal and more surprisingly eloquent. Had she been practicing?

"Uh yeah. What she said." Kristoff looked at Hilde who was still giving Anna an evil eye. The girl did stick out like a sore thumb. "So what do you say? You have a place for us tonight?"

"I've only got one room left." She said gruffly "It wasn't made with a princess in mind, but if you want it, you can have it. You two will have to sort out who gets the bed."

So much for Kristoff sleeping in a real bed for one night. Great. Just peachy. This day was so much fun.

"That's fine." Kristoff rummaged in his pocket for some coins and handed them to the woman. "I'm going to put my rig up in the barn. Her Highness will let you know if she needs anything. She's pretty good at that."

"There should be some feed in the bin by the door. You know what to do." Hilde inspected the money, pocketed it, and handed Kristoff a key from inside her many furs. "The room is upstairs at the end of the hall."

With a terse nod to Hilde, Kristoff turned to Anna.

"Wait here." He walked past her. "I'll be right back."

"I'll come with you." He heard her follow but didn't turn.

"No. You'll just be in the way. Stay here." He was at the door.

"But –"

"Just – stay here. Okay?" His patience snapped and he didn't look at her because he was afraid what he would see. "For once just listen to me, will you? Just stay here."

He stepped out into the cold and slammed the door before she had a chance to argue.

He half expected her to follow, and was ashamed of how disappointed he was when she didn't. Distance had its price.

**o000o**

By the time he made it to Sven to take him up to the barn, Kristoff was exhausted. Everything about the past forty eight hours had been an energy suck. The twenty yards in the snow felt like twenty miles, but he untied his friend and began the march.

Sven stared at him. His large brown eyes filled with concern, and Kristoff couldn't ignore him.

"Don't worry buddy. I am fine."

_You don't look fine._

"Trust me. I am. It's just Anna..." Anna and the way she sang every song she knew today twice. Anna and how she got so excited when she saw a winter hare. Anna and how he made her cry.

_You like her._

"Well sure I like her. She is likable."

_Then why do you push her away?_

"It isn't that simple, Sven."

They reach the barn and Kristoff opens the door. They enter together in silence before Sven speaks again.

_She likes you too, you know. _

"I know, I know. It's just…"

Sven nudged Kristoff's arm with his soft nose for encouragement as his friend started unhooking him from the sled.

_What?_

"It's just…" Kristoff's fingers moved mindless to unfasten the latches. Where should he start? His thoughts were a tornado. "Well how about the fact that she's seventeen, Sven. Seventeen! She's practically a child – and a princess to boot. How could I be so stupid? How could I ever think that, even if she wasn't so young, that she would end up with a guy like me? I mean, look at me! I have nothing. No house, no money, no family," Sven whacked him with his antler. "No _real_ family, no bloodline – nothing. I'm not the guy that lives in castles and marries princesses. That isn't my story. I have nothing and she has everything. Someday she is going to wake up and realize that and she is going to leave me. She is going to leave me and _gods -!_"

All of the strength melted out of his body at that admission. His fingers slowed on the last fastener. Anna was going to leave him. That was how this story went. It only made sense. Distance his ass. He was pushing her out the door before she could walk out of it.

_You think she is going to leave you?_

Kristoff shrugged, not wanting to answer. Sven kicked his shin.

"Ow!"

_Do you?_

"You don't have to kick me!"

_Then answer my question._

"Yeah I guess so." Everyone else had walked out on him. Why should Anna be different? "Still didn't have to kick me." Sven smirked.

_Now you are running away._

"I am not running away."

_Because you are scared._

"I never said anything about being scared!"

_You didn't have to._

"You never listen to anything I say ever."

_You're scared. _

"I don't even know why I try to talk to you."

_Scared. Scared. Scared. _

"I am not."

_Are too. _

"Am not!"

_Are too!_

"I am not!" He yanked Sven's harness off and then slumped back against his friend's warm fur. "Would you stop saying that?"

Sven was quiet, waiting till his friend was ready to talk to him, because he knew he would be soon. Sven was right. After a few minutes in silence, Kristoff broke down.

"I wish she would just go ahead and leave. You know?" Exhaustion crept over Kristoff's every word. "Not just because she is so young or a princess or whatever, but because that is what people do. They leave." He scrubbed his face with one hand. "I can't keep her safe. I don't know how. I couldn't keep her safe from Elsa. I practically gift wrapped her for Hans. I can't even keep her safe from _me_." He dropped his head. "I'm no good for her, Sven."

Kristoff looked at his friend and Sven gave him his best knowing smile.

_Why don't you let Anna decide that?_

**o000o**

By the time he made it back down to the lodge from the barn a half an hour had passed. He hadn't meant for it to be that long, but after he finished getting everything set with Sven and the sled he just stopped. He'd slumped down on a bale of hay and just stopped. The tension that built in his blood unwound and leaked out of his feet into the ground. He had to operate on such a high level of alertness when in Anna's presence that he had forgotten what it was like to let his guard down. He breathed for what felt like the first time in days, but it couldn't last. He'd left Anna down in the lodge with company she would do best to avoid for too long as it was.

He grabbed their packs and his bed roll, said goodnight to Sven, and went back down to the lodge. He could hear the commotion from inside before he was halfway there. The rowdiness sped his tired legs. What in the hell was going on?

What he saw when he walked in stopped him dead in his tracks.

The hazy common area was alive with music. A thickset logger Kristoff knew as Aleksander played a lively jig on his fiddle. Hilde belted the words to the familiar tune in her gravely alto. A group of twenty grizzled men around the sturdy table clapped along to the beat. None of that phased Kristoff in the slightest. The thing that nailed him to the ground was Anna.

Anna was dancing. No, not just dancing. She was dancing on top of the table alongside a dark haired man Kristoff did not know. He was young, at least as young as Kristoff, and handsome. He was tall, broad shouldered, and Kristoff wanted to kill him. Anger, dark red and dangerous, flared in his blood at the realization that this dark stranger knew how small Anna's waist felt in his hands, knew the fragile weight of her, and saw the spark in her smile.

The spell of the scene broke when the song ended a moment later and Anna's dance partner dipped her dramatically. She dropped her head back, laughing, until her eyes caught sight of Kristoff where he was rooted by the door.

"Kristoff!" She straightened and jumped off of the table to hurry over to him. "We were all just talking and then it turns out that Aleks plays the fiddle…"

"Anna." All of the tension that he'd left behind the barn found him again.

"And Hilde _sings_ and knows the words to _so many _songs…"

"Anna."

She kept talking: "So we started singing and dancing and I was just teaching Gunnar how to do a jig I know. He is a fast learner!"

Kristoff was sure Gunnar was. The bastard.

"Anna." He was losing patience.

"Come on! I'll teach you after Anton. He's next." She grabbed at his gloved hand, but he flinched away.

"No Anna." He said and the smile on her face faltered.

"Why not?"

He was aware just how quiet the room was now. All eyes were on them.

"Because it is late and we are leaving early." And if he has to watch her dance with whoever this Anton was, he'd probably kill someone.

"One dance won't hurt. Come on. Please?"

She held out her hand, small and white, and he wanted to take it. He wanted to spin her around until she was dizzy and breathless. He wanted to hold her and touch her until she forgot the feel of any other man's touch. He wanted to dance with her, but he wouldn't.

"I'm going to bed. You do what you want." He turned and made it halfway up the stairs before she caught up to him.

"What's wrong, Kristoff?" She tried to catch his arm, his hand, his shoulder, but he moved out of her reach.

"Nothing's wrong." He felt the Sven part of his brain kick him.

"You're acting like something is bothering you." She fell in beside him despite his determined stride.

More like _someone. _"I told you I am fine. I am just not in the mood for dancing tonight." Or seeing another man's hands all over the body he longed to hold.

"You don't have to dance if you don't want to. You can just watch with everyone else. They're good people. You should come back down and see. I was making friends."

Kristoff knew just what kind of people those folks were. He was one of them. Good was not the first adjective that leapt to his mind to describe them. He used the key Hilde gave him to open the door.

"None of those guys were interested in being your friend. I can promise you that."

"Oh yeah? Then why were they talking with me and laughing with me and _dancing_ with me? That seems pretty friendly to me." Anna followed him into the small dark room.

"Oh. I am sure they were all very friendly, but that doesn't mean they wanted to be your friends." Kristoff fumbled to light a lamp.

"Then what? What do they want?"

He turned to see Anna with her arms akimbo, face alight with more than just the dim lamp, and he saw the hurt he put there. He didn't want to fight with Anna. It was painful and exhausting and he could break her so easily. His mouth set a firm line.

_Now you are running away_. Sven's voice rattled through his brain, unwelcome.

"Never mind." He ignored Sven and Anna as he turned to the small hearth to stir the coals Hilde left there.

"I want to know." She came up behind him and put a hand on his arm. "Please tell me."

He wanted to melt into her touch, to succumb to the rushing warmth that surged from her hand throughout his body, but he wouldn't. Instead he shrugged her off, moving away from her and closer to where he was trying to start a fire.

"No. You don't."

"I just told you I did. Why doesn't anyone trust me to make up my own mind?" The question was rhetorical, but he had to bite his tongue to not answer.

He could think of a couple reasons. Like choosing to marry a complete stranger. Traveling at night leaving them susceptible to wolf attack. Trying to climb an impossible rock face. Provoking a fifty-foot snow monster. Cutting his rope so that they freefell two hundred feet to possible death. Trusting him. On any level. Ever.

Maybe letting her know what those guys saw in her was the best thing he could do. She needed to understand that the things she did had consequences.

Fire sparked in the kindling.

"Fine. You want to know what those guys wanted?" he put two logs on the fire and stood. "You. They want you."

He turned and looked at her. She was closer than he expected and he was struck by her proximity. He tried to remain impassive, but the spark in her eye was so enigmatic that it is difficult.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they want _you_." He gestured with his hands to the length of her.

She blinked.

"You mean, like, they want to kiss me?" She said it like that was surprising, like she didn't understand how incredibly tempting she was.

"Yeah. I guess so." He opted to not mention the other things they wanted, but she still blushed. Gods she was the killing him.

"Well. Maybe I want that too." She pulled up her chin to stare him bold in the face, daring him to make her regret it.

_Fine! _Part of his mind screamed. _Go ahead and leave. Have a blast!_ But he said nothing. His throat was too tight with emotion he refused to label.

_You think she is going to leave you?_ Sven.

_You cannot keep her safe. _Elsa.

_Scared. Scared. Scared. _

_A baby was cried. _

He could not breathe because those voices took up too much space inside of his brain to think of survival. They took up too much space to form his own words or retaliate in this battle he never wanted. He looked up at the dark ceiling, away from her hurt and disappointment, and tried to pull it together. He heard her withdraw, footsteps on floorboards, and her distance was a tangible thing in his chest. He didn't want any of this. He never asked to be here, but here he was, and he heard the door unlatch like a gunshot.

She was leaving and all he could see in his mind's eye was Gunnar's hands on her waist. All he could think about was the faceless Anton and what he might do to Anna if given the chance. There were twenty men with forty hands downstairs and he balked at the idea of any of them touching her. Kristoff knew he was no knight in shining armor, but at least he knew he had Anna's best interest at heart. He could not say so much for the crowd downstairs. That was why he couldn't stop the traitorous words that ripped out of his throat.

"I don't want you kissing anyone else."

His gaze tore to hers, as surprised as she was to hear those words, and her confused expression mirrored his own.

"But you said…"

"I know what I said." Oh boy did he ever.

"So… does this mean…" She was afraid to ask, afraid to hope after all he had put her through. He didn't blame her. "Do _you_ want to kiss me?"

_Yes! Oh gods yes. _The Sven voice jumped in before he had a chance to stop it.

_No! She's just going to leave. Best to beat her to it! _

_We need her._

_No. We don't!_

His head throbbed. He swallowed mouthfuls of nothing.

"It isn't that simple Anna."

"Then what do you want Kristoff?" Anna's sweet face crumpled under the weight of her confusion. "First you kiss me, then you say you don't want to kiss me even though you definitely did try to, then you tell me it is fine for me to kiss someone else and now…? I've spent my whole life in that stupid castle just waiting to live it. I am not waiting anymore. So you have to make up your mind. Do you want to kiss me or not?"

He looked at her in despair. He felt himself being torn in two. Her words swirled around in his head, confusing him, tearing at him.

He was scared.

Sven was right. He'd been scared she would leave and unavoidably break his heart. Now he saw that, with her about to walk out that door, he was just as scared that he would break her heart if she stayed. He was scared just what it would mean if he surrendered to tidal wave of need he'd seen in her eyes earlier that day. He was scared of the violence that exploded in his chest just at the thought of someone else touching her. He was scared of being responsible to someone besides himself. He was scared of how helpless he felt. No matter what he did, he felt like he was letting her down.

She gave him a sad smile when he didn't reply and turned back to the door. She pulled it open. Flashes of Gunnar and his wolfish smile danced in front of his eyes.

_You cannot keep her safe._ A challenge. A curse.

_I can. I will_. His answer. His promise.

This time he wasn't dreaming. This time he could save her, and he would even if that meant throwing his security to the wind.

It took him four long strides to close the gap between them. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him before pressing her back against the door, closing it with her momentum. She gasped. Her eyes opened wide in surprise. The heat of her body seeped through her dress into his palms, his fingers, and he wondered if she was this warm everywhere. She was so close. That sweet smell from earlier attacked his senses.

"I want to kiss you." Her face was so close he felt the breath of his words roll off her cheek and hit his lips again.

"You do?" A whisper.

"Uh huh." He nodded. His nose grazed hers. "I always want to kiss you."

"So why don't you?" Her eyes flickered closed, her chin tilted up, begging him to end this confusion in the clearest way possible.

He wanted her so badly that his need pulsed inside his chest like an extra heart, but he couldn't bring himself to close that distance between their lips. There was so much left to say. There was so much he still needed her to understand.

He wanted to tell her what he told Sven. He wanted to tell her about his fear of her leaving and of her staying. He wanted to tell her exactly what the wolves downstairs wanted from her because he wanted the same things. He wanted to tell her that he couldn't kiss her because he was so used to being alone that he didn't know if he could live any other way. He wanted to tell her that he was doing this for her own good because she always rushed into things without looking and just maybe they weren't the best idea.

He wanted to tell her, but the words stuck in his throat.

He pulled back. Her eyes drifted open. He dropped his hands off of her shoulders.

"It isn't that simple." He wished it was.

"Why?" She pressed two fingers to lips like he had kissed her and she had missed it. Hurt and confusion came off of her in waves.

"You take the room. I'll sleep in the hall." He reached past her to where he'd dropped his pack and bedroll by the door.

"I don't understand."

"We've got a long day tomorrow. Better get some rest." He reached out and tried to move her away from the door, but she wouldn't budge.

"Why didn't you kiss me?"

He gave her a wan smile, wishing he had a better reason than he did, and reached out to touch her cheek. The callused tips of his fingers yearned to rasp against the smooth skin of her face in an attempt to comfort her, but the look on her face told him it may have only made thing worse. He dropped his hand to his side without touching her and sighed.

"Because I'm trying to keep you safe." He said but did not expect her to understand. The expression on her face assured him that she didn't, but this time she didn't stop him when he moved her out of the way and left her alone in the room.

**o000o**

He spread his bedroll on the floor in front of her door and did not think of what might be happening inside. He did not think about how sweet and soft she was. He did not think about her sadness or how he was the root of it. He did not think of her. He would not.

He lay on his mat. He pulled his thick wool blanket up to his chin and considered escaping to the barn to sleep with Sven. His warmth was something he missed in the drafty hall and he wouldn't think about the warmth that was available to him on just the other side of the door.

He turned on his side and felt the hard outline of the key press into his hip. He sat up and fished the offending metal out of his pocket. He was just going to transfer it to his other side when the compulsion struck him.

He'd never locked a door before in his life. He'd never had a reason to, but now he turned the key hard and fast from his place seated in front of it. The bolt made a pleasing _thunk_ of metal sliding into place. An experimental tug at the handle proved its worth. Satisfied, Kristoff returned the key to its place in his pocket and settled down again for sleep.

He would not think about why he locked the door. That would be too much for his weary mind to process, but in his heart he knew.

He locked the door because, with her inside, he had something to lose.

**o000o**

**A/N:** Where there is much angst, there will be much fluff. Make-up fluff is the best kind of fluff, right? No worries my lovelies. I have big plans for rainbows and sunshine and so many happy kisses. Just have to get these two stubborn heads on the same page.

On the technical note, there is an actual Lake Limingen in Norway, but I am using it in a completely fictional sense. Any representation of it will differ from its reality. I just liked the name.

A MILLION BILLION THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! I tried to get back to all of you individually, but can't do that for those not logged in or registered on here, so please know that I appreciate the time you take the leave me your thoughts and comments. Y'all are the best.

Want some random thoughts along with fiction updates? Follow the twitter: **ravenswrite**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to the Frozen universe including, but not limited to, characters, names of places, lyrics, dialogue, or any other piece of product. Disney retains all the rights to this universe. I am making no money or receiving any kind of compensation, material or non-material, for this fiction. It's all for fun. Please don't sue me. I do claim the writing, the idea behind this particular narrative, and any peripheral characters or locations created to augment Disney's work.

**o000o**

Anna knocked on her door for hours, begging Elsa to come out, to let her come in, but Elsa couldn't. She wouldn't. It wasn't safe. She wasn't ready. Would she ever be ready? How could she have thought she was ready?

Time crept by, and eventually the knocking stopped. The light outside her frosted window pane waxed and waned in relentless rhythm that she noted whether or not she wanted to. Years alone in here and time keeping was a forced habit. By the dawn of her second day in seclusion, her room was painted in sparkling white. Frost like spider webs clung to the stone walls. Ice and snow formed piles and patterns on the floor, in the air, and she sat on the center of her bed surrounded by two feet of powder.

Another day - her father's perpetually sad expression flickered through her mind - another disappointment.

Love thawed. She knew that now. It was supposed to give her control over her powers, but it didn't. Not completely. There still winter in her bones, in her veins, in her heart. Her curse would never just _leave._

_Nothing happened. We are all fine._ Anna had insisted and she was right. This time, they were fine, but what about next time? Because there would be a next time, and a time after that, and –

Pounding behind her eyes like her brain would explode.

She needed sleep. Her body ached, and yet she could not rest. It was morning, and one day in hiding was one day too long when you were queen. Morning meant a new day and a new day meant new problems to add to the old. Her mind's eye flashed to the scene that would doubtless greet her: missives a mile high on her desk, trade negotiations, reports from the Royal Treasury to review and approve, land disputes between nobility, talking to Anna –

Icicles shot like spears out of her walls.

_So tired._

There was a knock on her door.

"Your majesty." It was Kai, head butler, an institution as much as he was a man, and the only person who knocked on her door besides Anna since her parents died. Always knocked, seldom opened. Did it keep them out or her in? "The kitchen wonders where you would like to take your breakfast?"

It was the same question she'd heard every morning since her childhood sequestering. It hadn't changed, but everything else had.

She was queen now, not some scared little girl. Arendelle was no longer a kingdom of closed gates and closed doors. She didn't have to hide anymore. She pushed through the piles of snow on her covers, on the ground, and stepped towards the door. Her legs trembled from exhaustion, hunger, and nerves, but she managed to make it to the door.

She reached.

The door handle froze over the moment she touched it, and _ohgodsshecannotdothis_ –

She needed another minute to compose herself, to tamp down and clean up this storm before she faced the world again. She ran shaking hands down the front of her skirt like she could smooth away her troubles.

Deep breath to keep the quiver out of her voice, then through the door: "Please tell the kitchen I will take my breakfast at my desk in the library."

The desk that had been her father's and his father's before that. Fearless kings who had ruled with grace and honor. Now it was her turn. She had to be fearless like them, fearless like Anna –

Galvanic tremors and her room took on an eerie shade of red. She squeezed her eyes closed. This storm could not leave this room.

"Very good, Your Highness."

She didn't exhale until she heard Kai's footsteps echo down the hall.

She stared at the door handle, the carved surface just as ornate as the frost covering it, and she had to stop this winter. She was queen now. It was time to put personal matters aside and attend to her duties.

Deep breaths, one, two, three, and - flashes of her father growing frustrated as she froze the water in _another _glass, her mother's frightened hover in periphery, _you must learn to control it_ – exhale, one, two, three, and again.

She had learned. She was done being a disappointment.

She held out her hands and pressed every anxious thought out of her mind. Elsa felt the storm quiet around her as she tried her best to subdue her curse. Her body shook. She did not remember it being so difficult before, but she refused to wonder at the reasons why that could be. By the time the last snowflake had returned from whence it came, Elsa felt faint. She turned and slumped back against her door to catch her breath.

Inhale, one, two, three, and – she was a small, scared girl who wanted a hug, but her mother refused to touch her, and she wondered why she never learned that love thawed – exhale, one, two, three, and again.

Elsa collected herself and went to her dresser. She opened the largest drawer and reached in. The feel of the drawer's brimming contents was like the caress of an old lover, comforting and unsettling all at once. She dutifully slipped each finger into their fabric casing, and remembered the first time her father had given her gloves to wear. _Conceal – don't feel – _and she didn't. Her senses dulled beneath the fabric, the curse under her skin itched at its confinement, but this was how it had to be. It was how she would keep everyone safe.

_We are all fine._ _We are all fine. We. Are. All. Fine._

She clung to that thought, not daring to let her mind wander further, but instead let her thoughts drift to the North Mountain and solitude and _freedom_.

**o000o**

Anna slid down the rough wood of the decidedly closed door and tried to not have a panic attack.

Love was supposed to _open _doors, not close them. Then again, she'd thought that about Hans and that had worked out just _great_, or whatever. More on the 'whatever' side since he turned out to be totally evil.

She thought Kristoff was different, because he was. He had to be. He wasn't a prince, or evil. He wasn't even political. He was just Kristoff, the mountain man, her pungent reindeer king, and she thought he actually liked her, or something, but it looked like she was wrong. Or was she? After all, he said he wanted to kiss her. That had to mean _something_, didn't it? He said he _always_ wanted to kiss her even though he kept _not_ kissing her. Was that how it worked out here if you liked someone? You said and did opposite things until the other person was so thoroughly confused that they felt dizzy standing up?

That didn't seem right, but then again, what did Anna know about love? She was starting to think it was close to nothing, and maybe it was. The only example she'd ever had (outside of the paintings in the gallery) was her parents, and she didn't remember them making each other crazy, dizzy, or frustrated. Then again, she didn't remember seeing her parents touch each other either. She definitely had never taken the time to wonder if her parents had been in love and she had most definitely never asked them if they were. Now she had so many questions she would never get answered.

How had they met? Was it love at first sight? Did they marry right away? Did her mother mind the way her father ate? Did they know each other's shoe sizes?

It felt like a troll was sitting on her chest.

Why couldn't she just find a guy who didn't want her for her kingdom or didn't send her so many mixed signals it made her feel like her ears were bleeding? She clenched her head in her hands.

What was wrong with her?

She spent the rest of the night trying to figure that out.

**o000o**

Anna didn't barge into the library at midmorning. She didn't come at lunch. Or afternoon tea. Or dinner. The temperature dropped a bit lower in the library with every missed interruption.

Where was her sister?

**o000o**

_Things Which May be Wrong with Me  
__A List by Anna, Royal Princess of Arendelle  
__Page One of Eight_

_1.) I say a lot of things I shouldn't. _

_2.) I break lots of stuff on accident._

_3.) Sometimes I talk about things no one else cares about for way too long, which is whatever, because I listen to other people's dumb stuff too. _

_4.) Is counting birds as friends a problem? If it is, then count it. If not, ignore it._

_5.) Chocolate?_

**o000o**

Candles burned on her desk, but there was no fire in the fireplace. The heat from the summer's day clung to air and Elsa felt like she was suffocating. It wasn't because she was warm, because she never was that, but because she was stifled. She hulled herself up in the library the entire day, hardly taking a break to eat or drink. There was so much work to do. She would never finish it even if she worked straight through the night. Her eyes blurred and her mind fogged at the thought even as her heart raced at the idea of falling behind. If she was insufficient as queen, who would rise up in her stead? Anna?

The temperature in the room plummeted. The candles flickered. No. She would work until her work was done.

_So tired. So, so tired. _

Where was her sister?

Muscle spasm in her neck accompanied a frost outlined sigh and she set down her pen. Now was not the time to worry about Anna. She had other matters that needed her attention. Anna would find her when she was ready. She always did.

The library door clicked open. Elsa whipped her head around to see who it was, heart leaping, but crashed when a stubby little snowball tottered in instead of Anna.

"Hello there Elsa." Olaf waved his twiggy arm as he approached. "I'm just here to check in, just here to check in. I tried to stop by your room, but the door was stuck. You should have someone look into that." He came up to the edge of her desk, carrot nose barely peeping above the edge. "Ooooo. Whatcha doin'?"

Elsa snatched at a few of the dozen of papers sprawled over the surface of her desk before stopping herself. Was she really worried about a snowman seeing the week's expense report? She needed sleep.

_Let it go._ She coached herself and replaced the papers onto the desk with careful reserve.

"Just getting a little work done." She moved a few pages out of the downfall of Olaf's flurry.

"Ooooh. Of course, of course, well I will just be on my way then." He wobbled back from whence he came. "Don't forget to have someone check your door!"

He was at the door and Elsa should have let him go. Instead she stopped him with a question.

"Olaf." This was for her peace of mind, for the sake of the missives she had yet to read. It wasn't personal. "Do you know where Anna is?"

The snowman turned, arms spread out to his sides, eyes wide, mouth open: "Yeah. Why?"

It was about thirty seconds before she wished she had never asked.

**o000o**

_29.) I eat too fast._

_30.) My nose sticks up kind of weird. _

_31.) I never pay attention during French._

_32.) I tear my dresses a lot._

_33.) Elsa doesn't trust me. _

_34.) Maybe she shouldn't (Does this count as a thing?)._

**o000o**

He knocked early the next morning. Sven was already harnessed to the sleigh, the wagon mount stored safely in Hilde's barn, and it was time to go.

"Come in." Anna's voice was muffled through the door.

He pushed open the door, but stayed in the hall.

"You ready?"

She was. She sat on the edge of the neatly made bed, fully dressed, hair brushed and braided, and looking like she hadn't slept a minute. A knife twisted in his gut at her gaunt appearance. He looked at his feet, unable to face her.

"I'm ready." She stood, pack in hand, but hesitated to walk forward. "Hey – you – I just wanted to say I'm sorry for last night, you know, if I made things weird. I didn't mean to. I just – sorry. Okay? Sorry."

He was sorry, too. He wanted to tell her so. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her so tightly she couldn't breathe and never let her go. Instead he looked down the hall at the stairs and swallowed.

"It's fine." It wasn't. "Let's go." They did.

He let her walk in front of him and did a poor job at not watching her hips the entire way to the sled.

**o000o**

_48.) I don't know how to cook._

_49.) I have too many freckles._

_50.) Mama used to say I can be selfish._

_51.) I "never look before I leap". Whatever that means._

**o000o**

A small team of guardsmen rode alongside Elsa's sleigh as they charged up the mountains. They set course in the direction the stable hands told them Kristoff had said he was going. The stable hands also confirmed that Anna had been with him. Kristoff and Anna had two day's head start on their side, but they didn't have magic.

Elsa's bare hands threw packed snow underneath the tracks of sleigh as they flew into the night and she was _furious_. It was the first time she ever remembered allowing herself to be furious, but emotional milestone weren't her concern right now. Her concern was her reckless younger sister.

This whole predicament was so avoidable

If only Anna had the common sense to realize that going off with a man into the wild for days on end unchaperoned and without notice was the epitome of stupid, selfish, irresponsible, juvenile, ridiculous, uncivilized, _dangerous_…! If only Anna thought before she acted, just once, she would have seen that these circumstances were foolish at best. Young women, princesses especially, did not go gallivanting through the woods with young men. There were rules. There were ways you were expected to behave. Anna knew better. Or did she?

There was so much Elsa still didn't know about her sister.

The only thing Elsa knew for sure was that, somewhere, her parents were rolling in their watery graves.

**o000o**

_76.) I spend too much time on the roof._

_77.) I take things that I shouldn't just to see if anyone ever notices. No one ever does, or at least they never say anything._

_78.) I don't trust clocks._

_79.) I am bad at lists._

_80.) My eyes are kind of buggy._

_81.) Sometimes I talk just to see if anyone is listening. _

**o000o**

Compared to the last two days of travel, Lake Limingen was not far from Hilde's lodging house where they had spent the night. Without the wagon mount, the sleigh cut atop the snow quick and light. The sun was halfway up the sky when they came up on Kristoff's favorite harvest spot. The shortened trip was good because Anna kept trying to make nervous conversation and it just wasn't working and she just ended up rambling.

It was all:

"So you have a last name? That makes sense since you don't have a title. I mean – it is _fine_ that you don't have a title. Sometimes I wished that _I_ didn't have a title and just had a plain, boring old last name like you. Oh – I am so sorry – I'm sorry. I mean your last name isn't boring at all. Bjorgman. Bjorgman, Bjorgman, Bjorgman. It just rolls off the tongue. How could such a roll-y name be boring?"

And:

"There are so many trees in this forest. I mean, it is a forest after all. If I could have a job, other than being a princess of course, I think it would have something to do with trees. I just love them. I love sitting under them and hanging swings on them and climbing them. I mean – is there anything better than a tree?"

And:

"If you were a bird, what kind would you be? I'd be a duck because then maybe I'd be able to swim, or at least float. Did you know a group of crows is called a 'murder'?"

He'd tried to keep up his end of the conversation, but everything fell flat. There were only so many things he could say about trees and crows and his last name, especially since the words he really wanted to say clung to the back of his throat, weighed heavy on his tongue. He just didn't know where to start and she was doing a great job of making sure he never had a spare second to think about where to begin. That was why he wasted no time hopping out of the rig when they finally made it. In less than two minutes he had unhitched Sven and had his pack of tools in his hands.

Anna jumped into the deep powder.

"So what do I get to do? I could help you with the harvest you know, swing the axe or saw the saw or whatever." She trudged alongside him as he went towards the bank.

"You can't help me with the harvest." And not just because he needed some peace and quiet to clear his mind, but because the idea of her out on the ice and all of the worst case scenarios that held made his stomach turn.

"Aw come on. I may be a natural born ice harvester. This may be my calling!"

She grabbed his sleeve in her enthusiasm, to stop him, to make him listen, and he froze in his tracks. This was the first time they had touched since last night and his eyes went to where her mitten clutched his arm. She followed his gaze and realized the gravity of her action for once. _No touching. Distance. Keep her safe. _Fragments instead of thoughts as he tugged his arm away and she stepped back.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – sorry." She looked at her feet, apologizing for transgressions she didn't understand.

"Stay off the lake." Gruff words to cover what he needed to tell her, what he felt. "There may be thin ice from other harvesters and I don't have time to teach you to watch your step."

With that, Kristoff was off to think and Anna watched him go.

**o000o**

_99.) I trust too easily._

_100.) I'm not very princess-y._

_101.) I lack tact. _

_102.) I always take the biggest piece of cake. _

_103.) Sometimes I lie about dumb stuff._

_104.) I am awful at geometry. _

_105.) I cannot swim._

**o000o**

There were not many options for keeping oneself warm and busy while waiting for an ice harvester to ply his trade. Especially when said ice harvester forbade you to do the most obvious thing you might have done to entertain yourself and you do not speak reindeer. So Anna read her books again, and dug the snow out of a stone fire pit left behind by other harvesters. She drew pictures in the fresh powder with a stick and tried to count Sven's teeth, but all she really wanted to do was go out onto the lake with Kristoff and tell him to stop keeping her so damn safe.

What did that even mean anyway? Trying to keep her safe. From what? From him? That was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. He made her so crazy, but she didn't want to make him angrier than he already seemed to be, so she would stay on the shore. That didn't mean she didn't want to see what he was doing.

Kristoff was far enough out onto the ice that it was difficult to watch him. She needed a better vantage point. That was why she picked a tree right on the bank. She hoisted herself up on a low hanging branch, snow fell into her face, and she shook it off. She wasn't as used to climbing trees as she was used to climbing all over the castle, but it didn't feel too different. Higher and higher she ascended, shimmying up the icy bark until the branches thinned and she tried to find a comfortable place to watch Kristoff work.

It happened quickly. Too quickly, perhaps. One second she was reaching and the next she was falling, crashing through the branches that had supported her moments before. It took her a moment to understand what was happened, to register what she felt. The first thing she realized, before the pain, or the cold, was that there was no air anymore. The world had turned to liquid. She flailed, struggling against her skirts and wraps as they pulled her down like a lead weights, and trying to make it back up to the broken light above her. Then it hit her – cold so complete she felt like she was turning back into ice. Her muscles revolted, shock making it near impossible to keep moving, but somehow she managed to pull her head above the surface for one brief second.

She barely had time to gasp a breath before she was pulled back into the icy darkness.

**o000o**

_165.) Most days, I oversleep breakfast._

_166.) I always forget my seven multiples._

_167.) One time I ate a beetle._

Then at the bottom in big, bold letters.

_**168. ) I AM ELSA'S SPARE.**_

**o000o**

She sunk.

Down.

Down.

Down.

….

**o000o**

_Anna burned the list in the fireplace._

**o000o**

**A/N: **Cliff hanger like it is my job. Because it kind of is. Except I only get paid in favorites, follows, and reviews. Which is kind of better than money because it makes me happy and it seems like all money does is stress me out.

That being said – I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR THE REVIEWS SO FAR! I have truly enjoyed each and every one. You all are the greatest. I write for you all, so knowing that you are reading and enjoying what I put out there is the best feeling in the world. It is like being in a room full of puppies that don't poop or pee or bite. You heard me. Reviews are like sending puppies to your author. Thank you for the room full of puppies.

And before you send all kinds of hate my way - I know I promised some fluffiness. It is coming, my lovelies. Be patient.

I am pretty good about giving heads up about chapters coming out a day or two before they actually come out on my twitter. So if you want to know before everyone else, or want to bug me about updates, or are just feeling extra stalker-y – follow me: **ravenswrite**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to the Frozen universe including, but not limited to, characters, names of places, lyrics, dialogue, or any other piece of product. Disney retains all the rights to this universe. I am making no money or receiving any kind of compensation, material or non-material, for this fiction. It's all for fun. Please don't sue me. I do claim the writing, the idea behind this particular narrative, and any peripheral characters or locations created to augment Disney's work.

**o000o**

His mind was never clearer than when he was a few thousand feet up with his saw cutting a path through the ice. Something about the biting cold, the burning muscles, and the isolation made him feel full of infinite possibility. He was able to push everything else to the side and work. For the first time in two weeks, he felt normal. He felt like Kristoff, and maybe that wasn't much, but it was all he needed. For a few precious minutes Anna was out of his mind and he could focus at the task at hand.

He'd carved a dozen large cubes out of the swath he'd hewn from the thick ice and was about to lug them to his sleigh when he heard it. In the quiet, the snap rang out like the crack of a snare. His head whipped in the direction of the sound. A tree fifty feet away shook though there was no wind, and then there was a flash of pink, of red, and something was falling. Snow, a branch, and Anna all smashed into the surface of the lake, but the ice didn't catch them. It gave way and swallowed them in a terrific crash. _Watering hole _– was the only thought that rang through his mind, unable to believe what he just saw. It was as silent as it had been before, like nothing had happened and Kristoff wished nothing had. Surely he hadn't just seen –

Then a mitten, the crown of a head, glassy eyes and gaping mouth splashed above the surface before disappearing again and Kristoff could not move quickly enough. Pickax in hand, he sprinted over the ice. Only one thought screamed in his mind:

_ANNA!_

But he couldn't say it. He couldn't make a sound. Panic ripped his voice out of his throat.

Ten feet away and he dove. He'd worked on ice long enough never to trust it, especially if it couldn't break the fall of a tiny girl. It creaked beneath him as he stretched his pickax out over the hole in hopes she would grab it, but seconds ticked by and she didn't surface. His mind raced. Why did he ever let her come with him? He _knew_ something like this would happen.

_You cannot keep her safe._ An accusation. A prophecy.

_I can! I will!_ A declaration. A dedication.

He wriggled closer to opening, ignoring the protests of the ice, and plunged his pick axe down into the water. His arm went into the water up to his elbow. It was so cold every muscle in his forearm cramped instantly. He fished for her, inching his arm in a bit further every second until he was up to his shoulder and he felt the ice threatening to give out under him. Still nothing and _come on Anna…! _

He only pulled his arm out long enough to throw his pickax onto the bank before he filled his lungs with air and took the plunge.

**o000o**

By the time they made it to the second campsite, Elsa's fury had lessened only because of her exhaustion. How long had it been since she had slept?

"It is almost night, your majesty." The captain of the guards spoke. She couldn't remember his name. She'd spent too much time hidden away. There were so many names she didn't know. "How does your highness wish to proceed?"

They'd brought supplies to set up a camp and rest since there was no way to know how far they would have to travel to find Anna, but Elsa could not rest. There was no time. Every moment the waited was another moment Elsa had to find an excuse for her sister's behavior.

"We will take ten minutes to rest and feed the horses, but after that we continue until we find the princess."

**o000o**

It was ten billion icicles stabbing him. Cold, dark water burned his eyes and stole his strength, but he swam down. He had to find her. He had to. The further down he went, the more difficult it grew to see, to move, to think, but he wouldn't stop. He couldn't.

Then there she was, a blur of floating hair and fabric in the water, frighteningly still even as she drifted down in the water. For one instant he was back on the fjord, running until it felt like his lungs would explode, and watching Anna freeze to solid ice. The memory sent a shock of adrenaline through his system. This time the ending would be different. This time he would save her. He had to.

He looped an arm around her waist and started upward. She was dead weight in his arms. She was limp and helpless and heavy but he couldn't make any of those words stick to her in his mind. Anna was none of those things. She was bright and headstrong and so tiny he was afraid of breaking her. She was warm and effervescent and – _oh gods _– every part of his body burned. His lungs screamed. The cracked surface felt unreachable, but that wasn't an option. There was still so much he wanted to tell her, needed to tell her, that this could not be the end.

He would never give up, but he didn't see how this ended well.

Darkness seeped in the corners of his vision. The world started to fade. He was two seconds away from unconsciousness when he broke through the surface and sucked in a mouth of half water, half air. His swimming arm slammed up onto the ice edge to try to hold on, but it snapped under their weight and they sunk below again. Kristoff tried to kick his way back to the top, to grab onto the edge of the hole, but he found no purchase. His body spasmed, fighting to breathe, to force the water out of his lungs, and his frantic movements caused Anna to slip. His heart slammed in his chest. He swallowed more water than he expelled. The ice kept breaking where he grabbed. His muscles were threatening to shut down from cold and exhaustion. Anna slipped that much more and then -

Then his hand caught onto _something_ that didn't break and Kristoff pulled up with all the strength he had left.

They moved, and it had very little to do with Kristoff, cracking a path through paper thin ice until they rested on the snowy bank. Kristoff sputtered and gasped, exhausted, one arm still clamped Anna to his side, the other gripped the end of a long branch. Sven held the other end in his mouth but Kristoff didn't have time to thank his friend for his rescue, because Anna wasn't breathing.

**o000o**

"Your Majesty, my men and their horses are fatigued. They need rest before they can carry on this mission." It is the captain again. _What_ was his name?

There were reasons why they shouldn't stop, but her head was so heavy and the night was so dark that she had trouble remembering them. The magic under her skin flagged. What could a few hours of rest hurt? Anna wasn't going to be in any less trouble than she already was.

"Fine. We'll camp here to rest for a bit, then we'll be on our way."

Elsa fell asleep in the sleigh before the camp was even made.

**o000o**

She looked more like the half frozen girl Kristoff had carried from the Valley of the Living Rock to a snow-covered Arendelle. Her lips were blue, eyes closed, and _oh gods _she wasn't breathing.

Kristoff was half numb and frantic. He scrambled to sit up over her, laying her flat on her back on the snow. She was still like death. This wasn't the first time he'd seen someone pulled from a lake, but this was the first time it felt like he was dying too. He pounded his fist on her chest, once, twice, like he'd seen others do until water bubbled up out of her lips and she coughed so hard he thought she may break in two. Her body shuddered, she turned her head to the side, and water gushed out of her gaping mouth.

"Kristoff?" she looked up at him and he'd never been so glad to hear his name before.

A frantic laugh tore from his chest. She was alive. He was alive. They shouldn't be, but they were.

She struggled to sit up, body weak, and his hand hovered close to her shoulder to help, but held back. She hissed when she put weight on her right arm.

"Ow." Pain punctuated by chattering teeth.

"Are you hurt?" He wanted to touch her, to pull her up against his chest and memorize the pattern of her re-found breathing, but didn't dare when she clutched her upper arm.

"I think –" Full body shudder. "I think my arm is broken."

Her face was drawn and pale, lips more purple than pink, and it was only when he noticed her trembling that he realized he was trembling as well. She looked like she might cry. Be it from shock, relief, pain, fear, or sadness, Kristoff did not know. He did know that the idea of her crying made his insides hurt. He wanted to lift a hand and push the dripping strands of hair off of her forehead. He wanted to hold her until he soaked all of her pain into himself and there was nothing left for her to carry. He wanted… no.

Instead: "Anna…"

He could dive into a frozen lake to save her, risking life and limb, but couldn't string together the words he needed to say. All show and no tell. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe, but probably not.

"I'm so s-so s-s-sorry." She said and the dam broke. Tears streamed down her ashy cheeks and Kristoff's heart clenched.

_She _was sorry? No. _He_ was sorry. Oh gods was he sorry. He never should have let her come with him. He should have been strong enough to say no. He should have been brave enough to tell her everything he needed her to hear. He was sorry his selfishness had almost killed her. This was his fault. He had to fix it.

They needed to move. Sitting on the snowy bank soaking wet was as sure of a death as if they'd stayed trapped in the water. They needed to find shelter and get warm. Kristoff weighed his options.

"Hey – hey now – there is nothing to apologize for. I'm fine." He held up mittened hands. "But we need to go – now – or we're not going to be fine for much longer."

It was at least two hours downhill to Hilde's, but it was their best bet. Arendelle was impossibly far and the Valley of the Living Rocks was a day at least. There weren't a lot of options when it came to the wilderness.

He moved to stand, legs wobbling beneath him, but he managed to help her up as well.

"Sven," His friend was already next to him. "Go to the sleigh, grab our packs, and meet us back here."

The reindeer was off like a shot.

"Why is he bringing us our packs?" Anna still cried strange quiet tears, shock tearing her body apart, and Kristoff looked off after Sven so he didn't have to witness them.

"We'll travel faster without the sleigh."

"But – you can't just leave it here. What if something happens to it?"

"A sleigh's not much good to you when you're dead, and if we don't get warmed up s-soon, that is exactly what we'll be."

Sven returned and Kristoff took the packs and slung them across his back. He grabbed Anna by the waist, only too aware of how his fingers nearly touched on either side.

"Sorry if this hurts." He said and lifted her onto Sven's back, mindful of her arm. He didn't look to see if she grimaced or not.

Then with practiced ease, Kristoff swung himself up behind her. The warmth radiating from the reindeer's back prickled and only served to remind him of just how cold he was.

"Sit close to me." Kristoff wrapped one arm around her and pulled her up against his body, her shoulder awkwardly curled into his sternum. "We have to try to keep each other warm."

"You think this is cold? Try turning into s-solid ice." She was trying to be funny, to lighten the mood, but between her tears and shivering the joke fell flat. He forced a dim smile.

"I think I'll leave the solid ice thing up to you, feisty pants." Kristoff grabbed the reins in his free hand. "All right, Sven. Let's fly!"

Sven ran the whole way.

**o000o**

"I apologize, good sir, but her majesty Queen Elsa is out on royal business." Kai told the stranger standing on the palace doorstop. "But if you would surrender the missive, I will make sure she receives it."

The stranger, tall, broad, and dressed in fine tailored clothes, shook his head. "You are too kind. I am afraid that I must deliver it in person, but I thank you for your generous offer."

"Of course, sir."

"Do you have a date when I could expect the queen's return?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"Very well then," the way the stranger spoke made Kai believe that it wasn't very well at all. "Then perhaps you can direct me to an inn where I may await her highness' return."

Kai gave him directions. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"No, thank you, unless you would you be as so kind as to tell her majesty that I am waiting for her when she returns?"

"And whom may I say is waiting?"

The stranger bared his teeth, a facsimile of a smile. "Tell her it is an old friend."

As the stranger retreated across the courtyard and out the now perpetually open gates, Kai yearned for the simplicity of closed doors.

**o000o**

Anna clung to her arm.

Kristoff clung to Anna.

Both were so, so cold.

**o000o**

Elsa felt like she'd been drugged. Each thought, each motion felt sticky and slow. She'd been dreaming. Was she dreaming still? How long had she been asleep?

She took a moment to assess her surroundings. She was still in the sleigh. The few men that accompanied stood watch around her. The sun was low in the sky, and it took her a few moments to realize that it was on the wrong side of the sky.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"No longer than expected, my queen." It was the captain again. What was his name? She really should know his name.

How long had she been asleep?

"Are the men and horses ready to continue?" Her head felt thick and heavy.

"Yes, your majesty."

She looked at the sky again. The sun couldn't be that low in the west. It was nearly nightfall. That meant she'd slept the entire day away. She couldn't do that. It didn't matter how long it had been since she'd rested. She was queen now and she had a kingdom to run, a sister to find – frost crackled across the wood beneath her feet. She couldn't be disappointing now.

"Then we leave now." She straightened her shoulders, trying to push the fog from her mind. "We must find Princess Anna."

**o000o**

Unlike the rowdiness of last night, the inn was quiet in the midafternoon. Hilde was stirring something in a large pot over the large community fire when Kristoff barged in with Anna in his arms and little patience.

"She fell in. We need a room, a fire, extra blankets, and spiced wine. Now!" His teeth chattered so badly it was a miracle he was able to speak.

Hilde leapt at Kristoff's commands. In a matter of minutes, they had everything he'd asked for and were in room with a roaring fire. Hilde had mentioned something about seeing Sven up to the barn before leaving the iceman and the princess.

Alone.

Kristoff stood as far away from Anna as possible while still enjoying in the warmth from the fire. Here in this quiet sanctuary, the urgency of the last few hours faded, but the memory of the weight of her in his arms, the feel of the curve of his body while he carried her, lingered and left him wanting. Concepts that tortured him like title and age seemed so distant now after what happened, but he knew they weren't any smaller. Or were they never so large in the first place?

He couldn't be sure.

There was a way the world worked. Water froze to ice, ice melted to water, a wind from the north-east meant a storm, and princesses marry princes. He'd been taught these things since he was a child. He thought them to be solid and steadfast truths. Then he met Anna and rules had no hold on her or anything around her. When Anna was near, summers turned to winters and icemen slept in palaces. Nothing held so fast to Anna as chaos did. It followed her just as close as her sweet scent.

Kristoff pulled off his ice encrusted mittens. His fingertips were almost purple. Staying in these sodden clothes, even by the heat of the fire, would be foolish. They may be out of the cold, but they were far from the out of the woods as far as frostbite and hypothermia were concerned. They needed to change, but then there were thoughts of Anna undressed and he felt heat for all of the wrong reasons.

This wasn't how the world was supposed to work.

He bent and flexed his fingers and rocked onto his toes. There was no easy way to do this and they weren't getting any warmer. He took a breath, steeled himself against any awkwardness he felt, and tried valiantly to remember the rules of the world even as they bent around him.

"_We need to get out of these wet clothes or else we will never warm up_." He said it in a gust like if he paused he wouldn't get it all out, and he probably wouldn't have.

The fire crackled. Had she not heard him?

He shot a glance over his nose at her to see if she was looking at him. She wasn't. She stared into the fire in unnerving silence. Her hair, braids long gone, was crusted with ice and drip, drip, dripped on the floor. The folds of her dress were frozen in place. Her chattering lips were blue. She still gripped her arm tightly to her side. At least she wasn't crying anymore.

"Anna?"

She startled at the sound of her name and looked at him.

"Huh? Sorry. I was just – uh – thinking. Yeah. You know. Thoughts."

She half smiled and wobbled her head a bit. He swallowed. He had to say it again and this time she was _staring_ with those eyes that were too wide and too curious and -

"_We need to get out of these clothes or we will never warm up_." Faster this time, if that was even possible, and then at the end: "How's your arm?"

She looked down to where her gloved hand was presumably frozen to the sleeve of her dress.

"Broken. I've broken like ten different bones in my body – my arms at least twice – so I kind of know what to expect." She shrugged which was followed immediately by a wince.

"You've broken your what how many times?" Kristoff asked before he could stop himself. She was a princess, not a wild caribou wrangler.

"It doesn't matter." She looked back at the fire and sighed. "Elsa is going to kill me. She's never broken anything, ever. Not a bone, not a vase, not a rule – nothing. It's like, how are you even human?" A choked laugh, not bitter, but pinched. "Maybe she isn't. Human, I mean. That would explain the whole ice magic thing."

Kristoff has no idea what to do with any of this. He had enough to sort through without trying to navigate the minefield that was the sisters' relationship. She said it didn't matter, so maybe it didn't. What did matter was getting warm, and suddenly it was less awkward to talk about that then it was to try to fix the years of damage between Anna and her sister.

"Look – I'm going to change into some dry clothes, so – you should too." His teeth chattered.

"Kind of have a broken arm here. We just talked about it, remember? Not really sure how you expect me to get out of this dress with only one hand." She looked at him, a confusing mix of intelligence and innocence, and his throat went dry.

He needed that spiced wine. Now.

"I could – uh" No turning back after this. "I could – help." His voice cracked and he coughed. "Yeah. I could help."

She looked at him again, and most girls would have protested, clutched at their dignity and feminine virtue, but Anna was not most girls.

Instead: "You mean it?"

He did, but was pretty far from admitting what _that_ meant.

"Because you kind of seemed against the whole touching me thing, except for when you weren't, which I am still trying to figure out." She cocked her head. "You don't make a whole lot of sense."

He could say the same thing about her, but that wouldn't be true. She was unpredictable, but she was never unclear about where her affections lay. The fact that he could not reconcile them in his own mind was no fault of hers.

He switched the subject.

"Did you bring a change of clothes?"

"No."

That answer was too concise. It took him several moments to resolve it in his mind.

'No' meant 'no change of clothes' which meant when she was finally out of what she was wearing that she would have nothing else to put on and then she would be – _holy shit. _He knew Anna _could_ be naked. He knew she _had_ been naked throughout her life. He'd even imagined her naked more than he was comfortable admitting at the moment, but the idea of her being here, in this room, alone with him and completely exposed was mind numbing.

"You told me there wasn't much extra room in the sleigh, and my skirts are all so big – I mean like _huge_ – so I just figured I'd rough it. You know?"

He _had_ said something to the effect a lifetime ago before she'd broken her arm and nearly drowned, before she was seventeen, before….

"And it's not like I _planned_ to fall into a lake. That just kind of came out of nowhere."

He nodded.

"Right." Except it was not even close to right. It was wrong, wrong, wrong. Undressing the emotionally compromised, injured, _young_ princess when she had no other option for clothing was so wrong he could not even –

"Do you have anything you wanna share?" She asked and he drew a blank.

Share.

Share?

Oh!

Share!

Share, as in clothes. Nothing else. Nothing like secrets or feelings or bodily fluids – _get it together, Kristoff. _

"Uh – let me check."

He didn't know why he said that. He didn't need to check. He only owned two sets of clothes. One was for wearing and one for his pack, and it had always worked out pretty well for him. Then again, he used to not make habit of saving ill-equipped princesses from frozen lakes. In the future he would have to be better prepared.

Wait – the future? With Anna and ice and everything? He wasn't ready for that thought.

He went to his pack on the bed and dumped it out. Hard tack, flint, hunting knife, a few carrots, and his one change of clothes tumbled onto the quilt. He had a rough wool tunic, a pair of trousers, and felted socks – hardly enough to make a decent outfit for two people, but maybe enough to make sure everything vital was covered. At least kind of. Maybe with some blankets…?

"You could wear – uh - I could – uh – I have a shirt we could – I mean I could – you could – " He coughed. "Here." He picked the scratchy gray fabric and extended it in her direction without daring look at her. "You can wear this."

Soft clicks of boots on creaky wood and the shirt pulled from his grip. Heat grew up his neck just at the idea of her looking at it.

"What will you wear?" She asked, no doubt noticing the sparse selection on the bed.

"Pants." He answered hoarsely.

"Oh, okay." He heard her shift. "So how are we going to do this?"

Damned if he knew, but it wasn't going to do itself. He turned to her. She was a few feet away, shirt gripped in her bare hand, and thawing all over the floor. Her bangs stuck out at weird angles, careful braids were long gone, her skin was chalk white so every freckle stood out in awkward dark splotches, and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Here – uh – we can just put this – uh- here. Yeah. Over here." He stepped and took the shirt out of her hand to replace it on the bed. "Just till you –" _are naked_ – hard swallow. "Need it."

"Good idea." Her empty hand went back to clutch her arm.

He stared. She shifted feet.

"There are hooks on my back, well not on _my_ back, but on the dress – on my back – on the back of the dress." She turned to show him and talked back over her shoulder. "If you could help me get those – that would be great."

It was clear that he and Anna had different definitions of the word 'great'.

**o000o**

The sun swung low, sinking below the trees, setting the world on fire.

Elsa felt the weight of failure heavy on her shoulders.

How long had she been asleep?

**o000o**

With a deep breath, he stepped close and reached for the high neck of her bodice. Kristoff's hand shook as he stumbled over each tiny hook. He told himself it was that he was still so cold and not because each one he unlatched exposed taunting pale skin. He hurried, trying to keep work rough hands from brushing her back, and it was a mix of relief and remorse when he revealed ornate lace at the top of her chemise and the sturdy draws of her corset. He made it past the nip of her waist all the way to the bloom of her hips before he stopped.

"There." He exhaled and realized he'd been holding his breath. "That should be enough."

"Thanks." She didn't move for a second, but then faced him and scrunched her nose. "Actually, could you pull my sleeves down? I can't really because my arm is all – oh you know."

She extended her left arm and this was really happening. He was undressing Anna, but not in any context he'd ever imagined.

He hooked his hands onto the fabric at the bottom of her sleeve. His fingers looked too big next to her delicate wrist. He tugged, she pulled, and the fabric moved inch by inch till her good arm was free. The front of her bodice drooped like an uncomfortable sash across her torso. He did his best not to notice what lay beneath.

She reached up and pushed the other side of her dress off the shoulder of her bad arm and sucked in a hissing breath.

"Ow." She squeaked. "Ow, ow, ow…" She pulled the dress back up in place with a grimace.

"You okay?" He reached out to touch, but stopped and dropped his arm. If he touched her now he may never stop.

"Maybe if you tug on it from the bottom – it would work better?" She didn't sound convinced, and neither was he. The dress was too heavy and pulled on her break. If he put tension on the area from a different angle, he didn't think the result would differ.

He had a different idea.

"Hold on." He went back to the bed and pulled his hunting knife out of its sheath. "Do you trust me?" He looked at her and saw her wide eyes on the blade.

"Yeah. Of course." She nodded and he clenched the handle of the blade a bit tighter.

_Yeah. Of course._ Like he hadn't given her ten thousand reasons in the last few days to do anything but trust him. Guilt twisted in his stomach, but there is no time for that. He had a dress to cut off.

He moved behind her. More tentatively than he'd ever done anything before, he gripped the edge of her collar in one hand and angled the blade off of her skin as much as possible. He'd torn enough flesh with this knife to know the damage it could do.

"I'll try to do this quick – just – don't move, okay?"

"Okay." She spoke like talking counted as moving.

Deep breath and the blade tore through the shoulder of the dress with relentless singularity of purpose. He did his best to keep her dress up with his free hand while he cut his way down. That was partially to help keep the stress off of her injury. Mostly because it gave him something to think about other than skin, pale and freckled, appearing as he sliced before it gave way to the sleeve of her chemise, and then to more creamy skin. He took extra care when he passed through the fabric over her break, and it was only a matter of seconds before the sleeve of her gown was completely ruined.

"Let's see how that does." He lowered the knife and dropped his hold on the dress.

The bodice fell. The momentum and weight of it pulled down her skirts, and then she was all white chemise and corset and underskirts and Kristoff's mind flooded with selfish thoughts.

She was close. Her back was only inches in front of his chest. He could see every shiver run through her body, count every shallow breath she took, notice the large bruise blooming under the skin of her arm. He focused in on that bruise, already dark and ugly, and Anna wasn't kidding. He'd seen enough breaks to know that you didn't get bruises like this unless you did some real damage. He ghosted his fingers over the mottled skin before he could stop himself and her head jerked to look where he touched.

"Does it hurt?"

Her thin fingers curled around the injury, hiding it from prying eyes, cradling it to her side.

"It's not too bad." She said, but he caught the grimace on her shivering profile.

Kristoff knelt to where her dress lay at their feet and grabbed the garment's ruined sleeve. Two swift jerks of his knife and the sleeve turned strips of fabric in his hands.

"What are you doing?" Her broad underskirts whispered against his arm.

"We need to brace it until we can get you to a doctor." He dropped his knife and stood. "Move your hand."

She did and he looped the fabric around the bruising area.

"Tell me if this is too tight." He pulled and knotted the strips in place, and her only complaint was a sharp inhale through her nose.

She really was tougher than he gave her credit for.

"There. That should help till we can get you to someone who knows what they're doing." His mind drifted to thoughts of trolls and crystals, but considering the fall out of their last visit that may not be his best idea.

"You seem to know what you're doing." She touched her bandages and then looked up at him. "Guess you kind of need to know things like this when you live on a mountain doing dangerous stuff all of the time."

However true her statement was, nothing he'd ever come across on those rocky crags felt as dangerous as standing alone in this room with a half-dressed Anna staring into his eyes and_ trusting_ him. The line of control he walked was thin indeed.

"Yeah. Well. You pick up things as you go." He took a step back, another, looking for air to breathe. He glanced at the bed where his spare clothes lay. "You good though? We got your dress off so can you do the rest?"

He hoped she didn't. He hoped she did.

"Uh – actually – I think I might need you to loosen up my corset." She said and he was in hell. "Or you could just unhook it. It has these hooks on the front that are pretty great. When I don't feel like having Gerda help me dress I can just hook myself in and out no problem. Well, I could. Now…" she looked at the bandages on her arm and he had to be dreaming. That was the only explanation for this. There was no way this was actually happening.

"You want me to unlace your corset." He's two second from running out the door into the sane reality that he knew existed outside and never looking back.

"Yeah, or unhook it." She gestured a seam running down the center of her bust area and nope – he wasn't unhooking anything. "It's whatever. Could you?"

Shit.

**o000o**

The path forked. The way not as clear as it had been.

"Which way do we go?" Elsa asked. "Where do we go from here?"

"We send some scouts and ahead and we wait." It was the captain. _What was his name?_

"But we can't wait. We have to find my sister!"

"I'm sorry, your majesty, but it is the best we can do."

It wasn't good enough. She wasn't good enough.

It snowed in her sleigh, but nowhere else.

**o000o**

Kristoff took stock of the endless exes woven tight against her spine. He could count the amount of times he'd done this on two fingers and the times it had ever mattered to him with one. The draws felt inelegant in his broad grip, but the clamshell of her corset fell open a bit by bit regardless. Anna fidgeted and he hoped it was because she was as uncomfortable with this as he was. It was difficult to say since Anna main coping mechanism for the entire emotional spectrum seemed to be talking.

"It's pretty handy that you just kind of knew what to do with my arm and all. I mean, you ruined my dress, but that is okay. It was kind of ugly anyway. It was one my mom had designed for me, like – forever ago, which I guess could be sad or whatever, but I don't think she'd mind too much. She'd just design something else for me. If she were alive that is. Do you ever wonder if your parents are happy with you even though they aren't around? I do. I think Elsa does, too. My parents spent _a lot_ of time with Elsa in her room, and I guess I understand why now, but when I was younger it always felt so unfair. You know?" He grunted in response, pulling long strings, and intimately understanding how unfair the world could be. "How's it going back there?"

It was going great, especially considering they both still trembled like leafs in the wind and his reason for shaking had less and less to do with him being cold with each passing moment. Why had he ever opened his dumb mouth and suggest this? He should have just let them both die from hypothermia.

"Almost done." Just two more crosses to go.

"Oh – good." A quake ran down her back.

He pulled open the last cross and the garment fell to the ground with a damp thud.

"And – uh - Kristoff?" She asked but he didn't reply. He'd forgotten all of his words.

The fabric of her chemise was still soaked and stuck to the skin of her back with mocking opaqueness. He reached for the tangle of strings at her waist that kept up her underskirts.

"I'm so, so sorry for all this. I never would have – I mean – if I could go back I wouldn't have climbed that tree."

The underskirts joined her dress and corset and there was so little left to the imagination now.

"I just wanted to watch you work and now I can't do anything and I ruined your harvesting trip and made you leave your sleigh behind and now I am taking your clothes and I understand why you are mad at me and I am so sorry. I'm so, so, so –"

She was freaking out. He put his hands on her shoulders to slow her down, to ground her, and her words came to a screeching halt. It was cold skin on colder skin but he felt himself warm at the contact. He tried to keep his gaze on the back of her head, but his eyes kept drifting to where his hands rested – and lower. She was so small and soft and why was he touching her again? Oh. Right. To calm her down, but considering she still shook like she was caught in a hurricane, he wasn't sure it was working.

"Hey. Don't worry about me." A familiar reassurance in an unfamiliar situation. "Worry about getting warmed up."

His thumbs brushed the top of shoulder blades, unfamiliar territory, and he could practically feel her heart beat jump. He needed to stop.

He looked up at the ceiling and dropped his hands. They still had things to do and none of them involved him taking advantage of so much skin he could cry. He stepped to the bed and grabbed his shirt.

"You should be able to…" _take it from here. _Was what he was going to say, but the words fell away when he turned to hand it to Anna and was confronted with a sight he would burned on his memory until his grave.

There she was, Anna, the sum total of all of his fantasies for the past two weeks, in only a soaked-through white chemise. A dark bruise spread across her sternum where he'd forced the water out of her lungs. His hunting knife was in her good hand and she attempted to hack through the sleeve on her bad arm. She managed to sever the thin fabric before he had a chance to stop her. The front of her chemise peeled down until her exposure level was somewhere between shocking and scandalous and _– oh gods – _his pants were tight.

She looked at him, held the knife out in victory, and smiled.

"I guess I'm not totally worthless after all."

"Great." He stiff-armed the shirt in her direction and looked away. "Now will you please put this on before you kill someone with that thing?"

He can feel her hesitation at his tone. The gruffness in his voice was no fault of her own, at least not explicitly. She couldn't help that the only thing he could think about was stripping off what little remained of her clothing, but she wasn't helping matters much either.

The shirt yanked from his grip.

"Now – no peeking." She had that funny attempt at authority in her voice, like it would be a genuine surprise if anyone listened to her.

He turned around, but more for his sake than for hers. He scuffed the toe of his boots against the floorboards to cover up any rustling from behind him. There was the obvious danger of _seeing_ Anna naked, but there was a strange guilt lurking in the corners of his mind about _hearing _her naked. It was difficult to wrap his mind around. Thankfully it wasn't long before her voice popped out in the glaring quiet.

"Okay – I'm dressed – or maybe I should say ' shirted' since, you know, I'm in your shirt."

_His shirt_. His heart clenched.

He almost didn't dare turn, but then she would make a big deal about that, and he just wants things to be simple for once.

"About time." He grumbled, not looking at her right away. Instead he took in the heap of skirts and underclothes and boots – it was no wonder she had sunk so quickly in the lake. He looked at the bed where his pants and socks still lay and remembered that he was still cold to the bone and no closer to warming up. He looked at the two mugs of spiced wine that Hilde left by the fire and longed to drink his. Then, and only then, he looked at her.

She was barefoot.

That was the first thing that struck him. He'd never seen her bare feet before and now they were chilled to a dark pink that carried up several other parts he had never seen. It crept up over thin ankles that led to shapely calves and delicate knees. The barest hint of thighs peeked out before the hem of his shirt swallowed the rest of her.

Damn – she had legs.

Of course he always _knew_ she had legs, but to see them was something so very different. Another thing that had never really escaped his mind was that Anna was an incredibly small person, but somehow when she was enveloped in his monstrous shirt, she became smaller. The way it fell over her body, dwarfing her, accompanied with the fact that it was _his_ shirt she wore drew out every protective instinct he had.

_Mine!_ Something growled in his mind and it startled him.

No. Not his. Well – except for the shirt or – you know – _more_. Okay – so maybe his. Wait – what?

He was starting to think like Anna talked.

"I didn't really try to get my broken arm through the sleeve, so now it looks like I just have one arm." She swiveled her body so the empty sleeve flapped beside her. "Kinda cool, right?

Also kind of cool how the neck of his shirt was too wide and slipped off of one of her shoulders when she did that.

"Yeah. It's super." He grabbed a wool blanket off the stack that Hilde had left on the bed, came over, and wrapped it around her shoulders. It consumed her all the way down to her toes and it was supposed to make her less desirable, but it just made her goddamn adorable. "Why don't you go sit by the fire for a minute. Hilde left some spiced wine."

"Okay." She turned half way, but stopped. "Aren't you going to sit by the fire?"

"I – uh – still need to change." Unless he wanted shivering to be a permanent lifestyle.

"Oh. Yeah. Right. Sorry." She looked down at the floor, pulled the blanket tighter around her throat, and was she _blushing_? "I'll just be over there then." She padded over to the fire and ignored the chair to plop down on the floor as close to the flames are humanly possible.

He watched her for a moment to make sure she was settled before he began the process of removing his clothes. He started with his shirts, then his leg wraps, then boots and socks. He kept a sharp eye on the back of her head as he lowered his pants, not trusting her curiosity or perfectly imperfect timing to not get the better of her. By the time he'd pulled on the dry pair of pants and socks, he felt warmer already.

He wrapped a blanket around his bare shoulders, aware that Anna had probably never seen a man without his shirt on before joining her in front of the fire. He sat, cross legged, and when he looked over at her he saw she was already staring at him. The light from the fire gave color to her chilled skin, warming it back to life, and he could have watched it for days.

Then she lifted her good arm, and he saw the mug in her hand. "This stuff is good. It makes my mouth tingle."

"Yeah. Hilde makes the best spiced wine on the mountain." He took up his own mug.

"Doesn't seem like she has much competition." Anna gave him a sly smile over the rim of her mug and Kristoff felt the corners of his mouth twitch.

How long had it been since he smiled?

"No. I don't suppose she does." He took a swallow and looked into the fire.

They were close and still. All they had to do now was wait the slow hours for their clothes to dry. After the perpetual motion of the last few days, it was a nice change. For the first time in hours, their lives weren't in immediate danger. For the first time in days, they weren't fighting. It was like everything that had happened in the past forty eight hours melted away in the fall out of this afternoon. Even more immediate realities were all but erased. She wasn't a princess, he wasn't an iceman, and there weren't nearly eight years of life between them. For once, for just this one moment in time, Anna was just a girl and he was just a boy.

He wasn't sure how it happened, but something snapped between them. The barriers he'd erected were gone the moment he sat with her, smiled with her, drank with her. He didn't normally sit well. Then again, neither did Anna, but this was different. Kristoff felt a hum of energy run through the air around them.

She felt the difference, too, and he knew it because she slid closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Kristoff let her. He deserved something good, even if it was just this once. He was too tired to keep fighting this, fighting her. He was exhausted of this war where Anna was both his enemy and ally. Here, in this alternate reality where she wore his clothes and they drank spiced wine, the fight wasn't worth it anymore. So what if they only ended up hurting each other down the road? So what if she was too young and headstrong to understand why this could be a bad idea? Those problems didn't exist here by the fire. Just Anna, always Anna….

Kristoff was done with his drink before Anna's mug was half empty. He felt the warmth from it spread out through his body. Prickles of life sprung up through his nerves as the fire thawed his extremities and the wine added fire to his blood. Nothing made him feel quite so warm though as the weight of her damp head on his shoulder. If only every moment could be as simple as things were now: stripped and bare. Where there was no urge to run because there was nowhere to which to run. Where there was no need for propriety because no one was watching. Where nothing really counted because after the day they had, who could blame them for such breaks in decorum?

She set down her mug on the floor in front of them. The clank of the metal on the wood snapped him from whatever reverie he'd been in, but not nearly so much as the feel of her thin hand coming to rest on his thigh. The way she touched him was so easy, so familiar, and it took every ounce of strength he had left to not jump or flinch or scream like a girl because it frightened him. He swallowed hard and stared at that hand.

"You're not shivering anymore." Her voice was quiet, but she was right. He wasn't. When had that happened? "I thought you weren't, but I just wanted to be sure. I'm not shivering anymore either. See?" She lifted her hand a bit so he could see before setting it back down on his thigh.

They stayed like that for an eternity. Her head rested on his shoulder, her hand on his thigh, and each breath a prayer that if this were a dream that they'd never wake up. Then he felt her head shift off his shoulder and he looked over to see her gazing up at him. There was something bright and desperate burning in those eyes and it made his breath catch.

"I thought I was going to die in that water. I think I really did die, maybe for a second, but I wasn't scared. I wasn't scared at all – Kristoff?" She whispered, words hissing through tight lips. "Do you want to know why? Do you want to know why I wasn't scared to die?"

Kristoff did not even need a moment to consider he question, he knew the answer. No. No he did not want to know. He didn't want to think of how in just a few short weeks, he'd already seen her die in front of him twice. He didn't want to remember how she turned to ice, or how she looked when she wasn't breathing. He didn't want to feel what it was like to lose her again, not now, not ever.

He wanted her warm.

He wanted her close.

He wanted her alive.

He wanted _her. _

So, without giving himself time to reason or think a way out of it, Kristoff leaned over and sealed his mouth over hers.

**o000o**

The Stranger found the inn without delay. The man at the palace gave him excellent directions. It was a small place, informal and nowhere close to his usual level of comfort, but it would do given the circumstances.

He shed his tailored jacket and placed it on the simple bed where he would sleep until his time came. Then he went to the window and looked out. There was the grand Arendelle harbor, one of the trade capitols of the known world. There were half a dozen ships in his sight and more hidden from his view, but his eyes fixed on the one that had brought him here. It was unmarked, inconspicuous, and _fast_. At the end of the day, that was all he needed. A smile crept onto the corners of his mouth.

"Yes." He said to the empty room. "This will do nicely."

**o000o**

It was like she'd waited for this kiss since their fireside embrace a lifetime ago. Maybe she had. Hell - he had. He'd even told her so. Now she made up for lost time.

She rose up on her knees and met his kiss full on. Heat, and not just from fire warmed skin, sprang into his system the moment their lips touched because she was _vicious_. There was no hesitation from her, no surprised gasp this time. She was all _wantwantwant_ and _taketaketake_ and he shared her sentiment.

Some distant part of him knew that it was trouble when she coaxed his tongue out of his mouth and he could taste the remnants of wine on her lips. Just like some part of him knew it was trouble when he carefully, oh so carefully, put a hand on her hip and shifted them so she was straddling his lap. Just like another part of him knew it was trouble when her exploring hand pushed at the blanket around his shoulders and it fell to the floor.

There were only inches and thin fabric between them. Kristoff knew just how easy it would be for that hand on her hip to slip around and _grab_. He knew that it would take next to no force to grind her down against him. He knew that the fingers tracing patterns on his back and shoulders would eventually demand more skin to map with delicate fingertips. He knew not because he had much experience in these matters, but because this was all just so easy with Anna.

It would be so easy to run a hand up over her thigh and navigate the bare curves he knew lay waiting beneath his shirt. It would be so easy to ruin soft skin with big greedy hands until she had more bruises to add to her collection. It would be so easy for this to be his _forever_ and oh gods he couldn't –

He twisted a hand in her hair and pulled back an inch because there was no breath left in him. The fire she set, sparks left in the wake of her fingernails against his back, ate all the air left in his lungs. Heartbeat like hooves pounded in his ears and she looked down at him. He'd be an idiot to think Anna was anything less than dangerous like this. She was rumpled and magnificent and fearless. She was reckless and frustrating and _perfect_ and it took him a moment to realize he was chanting her name like it could save him from this need, like it would tell her everything he needed her to know.

_"Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna…."_

He buried his face against the slender column of her neck and just _breathed _because she was _perfect_.

_"Anna, Anna, Anna…"_

He loosed his hold on her hair to wrap his arm around her back just as she wove her fingers through his and they held each other. So close, so far, and there was so much he needed to say.

"_Anna_…"

She hushed him with another kiss.

**o000o**

"There is an inn ahead, sir. It is possible someone there has seen the princess." The young scout reported to his captain, but Elsa heard it all.

"Then we go there." She said before the captain had a chance to give the order.

Anna was close. She could feel it in her bones.

**o000o**

They'd fallen asleep in a tangle of blankets in front of the fire. Kristoff had tried to pull away, something about it not being right for him to sleep next to her, but rules didn't stick to Anna. After all, she was already in his shirt and if they stayed by the magic glow of the fire instead of the bed it didn't really count and she felt _so cold_ when he wasn't pressed against her… it hadn't taken too much persuasion. They'd both fallen into the easiest sleep either of them had had since this journey began.

That was why Anna could not understand why in the earliest of the morning she was cold again. She shouldn't be cold. She was curled into Kristoff, weight on her good side, with her bad arm tucked firmly against her from the tension of the blanket that covered her. She was dry, only a few feet from a fire, and there was no way she should be cold, but she was.

Anna blinked her eyes open. The sun wasn't quite up yet, but the room wasn't dark. The hall door was open and light streamed in from lamps being held by shadowy figures in the corridor.

…and was that snow fluttering in through the air?

"Anna." Her sister's voice even colder than the air around her. "It is time to wake up."

**o000o**

**A/N**: So I hope this massive update made up for the time it took me to write and post it. Phew. Nearly 10k words. You're welcome.

A trillion thanks for all the reviews/follows/favorites/tweets that came through between updates. There's been some pretty dark stuff happening in my personal life lately, and you all are helping me through it. I know that is stupid and cheesy, but I mean it. Without all of that feedback and encouragement, Anna would probably still be at the bottom of the lake because that is kind of where I am right now in my personal life. Misery loves company, don't you know. So I, this story, and Anna, are indebted to you more than you know. I tried to get back to you all individually, but to all the guests and reviewers that I cannot respond to through private messages – please know that I appreciate your readings and reviewing oh so much. You're the best-est.

As I mentioned earlier, I've had some heavy personal stuff hit me recently, but I promise I will try to keep up with my writing. Feel free to kick my ass and bug me either on here or through my fanfiction twitter: **ravenswrite**

Hopefully I will see you all back here soon. XOXO


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